


Numberless Times

by Brightki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Complete, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Mild Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:31:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 44,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8870548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brightki/pseuds/Brightki
Summary: After a violent jolt into her magical maturation, Hermione finds out that she's blessed with a rare gift in the magical world: a soul mate. If only this revelation didn't threaten to endanger many lives and leave the outcome of the war hanging in the balance. *COMPLETE*





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Welcome to my new story! :D As you can see, it's a Snamione! And I'll go ahead and spoil you - it's a soul mate au! Get excited, y'all! Updates will happen about weekly, though certainly no promises. Thank you so much for reading! *hearts*

" _ **I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times… In life after life, in age after age, forever." - Rabindranath Tagore**_

CHAPTER ONE

Hermione Granger, just three weeks from twelve years old, sits in the broad and well-cushioned window seat of her bedroom, staring out over her backyard. The leaves are turning, and the occasional early starter drifts to the ground though most are still clinging in the hopes of summer lasting just a little longer. Her new trunk sits beside the door, packed full of books and robes and potion ingredients purchased earlier in the week.

For an entire year, she has been waiting for this day, the day that she will leave for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

.oOo.

_Freshly turned eleven-year-old Hermione kneeled on the chair, leaning over the table to blow out the candles decorating her space-themed cake._

_Every year was a new theme based on her favorite subject of the moment, and this year was space – with blue and purple swirled frosting, dotted with star-shaped candies and the entire solar system suspended above the cake, perched on clear plastic sticks._

_While her parents were dentists, they were also a bit older than her peers' parents and doted upon their only child. Birthdays were special, they always said, and that deserves special treatment: her choice of dinner and themed cake were always part of the celebrations._

_So, this year was space-themed, and the candles were left smoking in the wake of her excitement to slice into the cake._

_Just as her mum had finished picking the candles and planets from the icing, prepared to slice it up, the doorbell rang._

" _Who could that be?" Richard Granger looked over his shoulder in surprise, while Mary Granger looked over to her husband._

" _We weren't expecting anyone else. Go and see, Richard; it may be one of the neighbors."_

_Hermione looked from her mother to her father expectantly, waiting for him to go and check. She had been ruthlessly drilled by her parents to never open the door on her own, but that didn't stop her from hopping to her feet and trotting along just behind her father to the door in curiosity._

_Richard swung the door open, a smile affixed on his face – just before he froze in surprise at the visitor in front of them._

_A woman around her parents' age stood just on the other side of their front door, which wasn't all that unusual. Many of their neighbors were her parent's age, or older, and often stopped by to chat with the little family and dote upon their precocious child, passing her a sweetie or shiny coin on those occasions._

_What_ was _unusual was the woman's appearance. Hair pulled back from her face and neatly twisted in a sleek chignon, cat's eye glasses perched on her nose; the most spectacular thing was her dress. A shimmering black dress – robe – encased the woman from head to toe. And when she spoke, the thick Scottish burr screamed, "not from here."_

_Hermione stood gaping up at the sternly attractive woman, while her father looked confused. "Sorry; can we help you?"_

" _Yes, actually. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall. You must be Mr. Granger…" Her ordinary brown eyes shifted to the bushy-haired girl behind him, and the first glimmer of a smile appeared on her face. "And_ you _must be Miss Granger."_

.oOo.

Almost exactly one full year previously, Professor Minerva McGonagall had shown up at her family's door, the bearer of outrageous, frightening, and brilliant news: Hermione was a witch, and suddenly so many things had made sense, and just as suddenly, she had literally _thousands_ of questions.

Luckily, the professor had come prepared with a half dozen books that introduced Hermione to various aspects of the wizarding world. A few history books, including one specifically about the Hogwarts Castle and was one of her favorites, as well as a mix of other introductory texts. It was fascinating and enthralling, and Hermione could be found reading any one of the books, again and again, at any given time through the following year.

Her absolute _favorite_ book was rather thin and small compared to the others, a rather general comparison of topics that were believed to be legends in the Muggle world, and are true in the wizarding world, and one she read over and over; particularly the one short chapter on soul mates.

While quite rare, the book explained, soul mates were not unheard of in the wizarding community; typically, upon a witch or wizard reaching their majority at seventeen, a small increase in power was to be expected. In those with a soul mate, the power fluctuation was often accompanied by dreams and, in many instances, the sensation of another heart beat, either felt or heard, especially in proximity, until the bond was acknowledged by both affected parties. Often reports varied from soul mate to soul mate, and as such a rare occurrence, there was simply not enough information for the general populace beyond the myths and legends that had appeared over time. Though many couples had been speculated about, the last _confirmed_ soul mate bond had been an unnamed couple many generations past, married into the Greengrass family.

The best was when the professor visited again a month later and stayed for tea and a long discussion of what Hermione had learnt from the books. Hermione was upset to learn that she probably wouldn't see Professor McGonagall again until the school year began the next September but was then relieved to learn that she would still be visited by other faculty members from the school.

Three months after the professor's second visit, just after New Year's of 1991, two figures appeared at the door of the Granger home. The first, tall and stately with long white hair and an even longer beard, was the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Hermione recognized him from _Hogwarts, a History_ as soon as the door opened and could barely control her glee. The other man, while vastly younger, was nearly as tall and much thinner, with slick black hair and a rather large nose, and was introduced to the Granger family as Professor Severus Snape, and he was to be her Potions professor.

The two men stayed for tea, although Professor Snape refused anything to eat or drink in a deep, rather soft voice. While Professor Dumbledore sat with Hermione and her parents, the four of them chatting about what to expect at the school, the black-clad Potions professor stood behind Dumbledore's chair, arms clasped behind his back and dark eyes fastened in the direction of the bureau full of Mary Granger's wedding china.

When they were about to depart, Dumbledore was escorted by her father to the front door, while her mother was carrying the tea service into the kitchen. Hermione glanced over, her eyes widening in surprise when she found herself being watched by Professor Snape. His otherwise expressionless mask was gone, leaving behind a vaguely bewildered look that made her want to break out into giggles. Biting down on her lower lip to hold them back, having an idea that _that_ particular reaction with _that_ particular man might not be such a good idea, she returned his look with a searching one of her own.

"Severus?" Professor Dumbledore's voice from the entryway wiped the expression from Professor Snape's face and he turned on his heel to leave the room.

Hermione popped up from her seat suddenly, the words tripping from her tongue. "Thank you for your visit, sir."

The dark man froze, before glancing over his shoulder at her with a tense nod. Still without a word, he turned back and left the room, and Hermione sank into her seat again with a soft exhale.

Later, at the dinner table, her parents were chatting about the professors' visit and Mary paused for a long moment, her fork idly spinning in her mashed potatoes. "And that Professor Snape. He was an intense young man."

Richard glanced over to his wife with a solemn look on his face. "He certainly was. And Professor Dumbledore mentioned he'd been teaching at the school for ten years now? He must have a passion for his subject, to have begun teaching so young."

Hermione's eyes flicked back and forth between her parents as they conversed before she spoke up quietly. "He seemed… sad."

Her parents paused, glancing at one another and then to their only child, each with a softened smile on their face. Her mother spoke first, reaching over the table to pat her hand. "I dare say I agree with you, love. But don't go saying such things to the other students, once school begins."

"I know, mum. It wouldn't be kind to either myself or Professor Snape." Hermione smiled at her parents, though deep inside she knew she would make a special effort to be the best student possible for the taciturn professor.

There was a lull as Hermione applied herself to her food and her parents exchanged another glance before Richard cleared his throat. "How about Professor Dumbledore's waistcoat? I didn't know that shade of purple was possible."

.oOo.

While Professor Snape never made another appearance, Professor Dumbledore visited once more on his own; there were also visits from the Herbology Professor Pomona Sprout – a rather plump and enthusiastic woman who was a few years younger than Professor McGonagall and right near her parent's age – as well as one more from Professor Sprout, this time accompanied by Professor Aurora Sinistra. The dark skinned woman was quiet, offering only a few words of conversation during their tea, before departing with a rather bland, "See you in class."

Professor McGonagall surprised her two months before classes began when she showed up at the Granger home to take the family to Diagon Alley in order to purchase her supplies. Hermione kept her wand clutched in her hand the entire time – the first stop on the trip having been Ollivander's – and kept it within sight at all times, even after arriving home. She was quite afraid that if she lost it, despite not being an irresponsible child, she wouldn't be allowed to go to Hogwarts and be with the others like her. She devoured every book they had purchased, memorizing them and practicing the spells until she knew that none of her teachers would be disappointed in her.

.oOo.

Hermione blinks as she's drawn from her thoughts, turning her head at the sound of the door opening to see her father leaning into the bedroom with a tense smile.

"Ready to go, sweetheart?"

She smiles, hopping up and smoothing her skirt with a nod. "Definitely ready. Let's go, daddy." Hermione slips her hand into her father's as he hefts the trunk – while thanking goodness for magic and the built-in lightening charm – and they make their way downstairs.

Passing through the divider at King's Cross is easy enough while following Professor McGonagall's instructions, and Hermione soon finds herself hugging her parents tightly in farewell.

Richard Granger squeezes her tight enough that she squeaks, kissing her bushy hair and telling her to stay safe and to study hard. Mary smiles, kissing her daughter's cheeks and wiping tears from their faces. "You're going to have such fun, love, and you're going to make so many friends!"

Before she knows it, Hermione is boarding the train and speeding away to Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy Christmas Eve, everybody! I hope you enjoy the next chapter in this story. There's a bit of a time jump... ;)

CHAPTER TWO

 

One morning, not long after Hermione’s 16th birthday, dawns cool and crisp and she opens her eyes to the sun filtering through the clouds and warming the thick covers laying over her bed. With a deep sigh, she stretches out until her toes curl, groaning as the muscles loosen and warm up, before she finally slips from her bed. Glad, once again, that she wakes long before her roommates, she pads off to the bathroom for an extra long hot shower.

 

Thus occupied, standing naked beneath the hot water, she is completely unprepared when what feels like an electrical charge surges through her entire body and she collapses to her knees with a cry. She has no inkling that her magic is flaring, sparkling, dancing around her, the water turning to steam inches away from her skin, the mirrors shattering and reforming, until suddenly, with one final blinding burst of magic, all of the lights are extinguished and Hermione collapses, unconscious, to the tiled bathroom floor.

 

.oOo.

 

When Hermione opens her eyes again, some indeterminate amount of time later, she draws in a sudden, sharp breath which catches in her dry throat and causes her to start coughing violently. She rolls to her side, not even aware of the rustle from the curtains surrounding her bed, until a cool hand followed by the tip of a wand brushes across her throat and the coughing begins to fade.

 

Once she can sit up again, she turns her watering eyes and squints at the figure hovering over her. Wand moving slowly, Madam Pomfrey spares a quick smile for her patient. “Easy there, Miss Granger. You’ve had a bit of an upset and your body may take a bit of time to recover. Let me see how you’re faring now.”

 

Settling back onto the pillows, Hermione frowns as she watches the healer run the usual diagnostic spells… and then, with a slight frown, a few more she’s never seen.

 

“Madam Pomfrey? Is it… am I alright?” She keeps her voice soft so as not to interfere too much with the older woman’s concentration, though even she can hear the tenseness.

 

“Oh, yes, dear; you’re just fine! Well, the bump on your head is still healing, head injuries  _ are _ rather tricky you know, even with magic, so you’ll be staying here until you’re completely healed; at least one night, possibly two.”

 

Her eyes widen in shock as she attempts to sit up. “But my classes--!” 

 

“Now, now, that’s enough of that, dear. Lay back down, you will be going nowhere tonight, and I’m sure we can obtain your classwork so that you won’t fall behind. Let me go fetch some potions for you.” 

 

“Madam--!” 

 

But it was no use, and the healer had slipped through the curtains before Hermione could even finish the woman’s name. With an irritated huff, she flops back onto the bed, frowning up at the ceiling.

 

Suddenly, she pops back up, craning her head back to stare in shock at the ceiling. There are what appear to be tiny lines of color and light, but as she follows one down the wall behind her, she sees that they are larger, about the width of her palm, and appear to be pulsating softly.

 

Her soft gasp is covered by the sound of the curtain moving again, as Madam Pomfrey bustles back in, potion bottles cradled in her arm… and, following right behind her, is Professor Dumbledore.

 

He steps up to the foot of her bed, smiling benignly. “Ah, Miss Granger. I heard you had a bit of an accident earlier today. How’re you feeling, my dear?” 

 

“Uhm, a little confused, sir. I’m still not sure what happened, earlier, and now…” Hermione trails off as her eyes slip back to the infirmary walls, her pulse picking up with her nerves.

 

Dumbledore pauses, the smile slipping from his face as he watches Hermione look around the room. “Perhaps you should explain what you remember, Miss Granger.”

 

“Yes, sir. Well, I got up and went to shower; I was washing, when all of a sudden it felt like, like I would imagine what sticking a fork into an electrical socket feels like. Like all of my nerves were on fire. I remember everything going dark, and… that’s all, I’m afraid.” Hermione frowns, dragging her eyes back to her professor as she twists her fingers in the hospital sheets, drawing in a deep breath to calm the loud pounding of her heart.

 

“Hmm. And you’ve recently had a birthday, correct?” He waits for her affirmation before nodding. “Well, my dear, it sounds as though you’ve come to your magical maturity rather traumatically. A bit early too, though it’s not unheard of, especially for particularly powerful witches and wizards. I, myself, came to my majority right between my fifteenth and sixteenth birthday.”

 

Hermione gasps in shock, straightening up even more with wide eyes fastened on Dumbledore, before Madam Pomfrey reaches out and tugs her back again. “I’m sorry, Madam.” She clears her throat, opening her mouth to… she’s not sure what, to say something to the headmaster, maybe to question him about the lights… but the crescendoing beat in her veins overwhelms her thoughts, stealing the breath from her lungs.

 

“What--?” She clutches at her chest, gasping, as Madam Pomfrey jumps forward and rapidly waves her wand.

 

“Miss Granger! Are you alright?” Dumbledore moves around the bed, waving his wand as well with a low mutter. “Her power has jumped significantly, Poppy. How long was she out for?”

 

“Only a few hours, Albus! She hit her head when she fell, and her roommates found her passed out in the shower, and alerted Minerva. I put her into a charmed sleep after administering the potions we had available and sent a request to Severus for the others.”

 

Hermione lets out a soft whimper, curling up on her side in the bed and clutching the covers to her breast.

 

“Albus, what is happening?”

 

“I’m not entirely sure, Poppy. Miss Granger seems to have come into her magical majority; however, she’s having some worrisome reactions.” Albus frowns, glancing from Hermione and across to the healer. “Her diagnostics?”

 

Poppy shakes her head as she withdraws her wand. “Are all normal, Albus. Nothing seems to be physically wrong with her, except for what’s being caused by her distress!” She reaches out, laying her hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Miss Granger, can you hear me?”

 

“I-- yes! I just, the heartbeat… is it  _ my _ heart?!” Hermione cries out softly, pressing her hands to her chest as though to contain something. “I can’t  _ feel it _ , but it’s so  _ loud _ !”

 

Albus, one hand extended towards the young girl, draws back sharply at her words, his brows raising high on his forehead. “Merlin have mercy, can it be…?”

 

Poppy’s head comes up, staring hard at Albus. “ _ What _ , Albus? What can it be?”

 

The old man clears his throat and tugs thoughtfully at his beard. “I do believe… that Miss Granger has a soul mate in the vicinity.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! ;)

CHAPTER THREE

 

Poppy stares at the headmaster. “Surely you aren’t serious? A  _ soul mate _ ?”

 

Stroking his beard, Albus lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, Poppy. I’m fairly positive at this point. Coming into her magical majority, such a leap in power, and hearing a heartbeat that isn’t her own? The signs are all there.”

 

Suddenly, the door to the infirmary is thrown open and a dark figure staggers into the room, before falling to one knee. “Poppy…!”

 

Albus whirls around, pushing the curtains away from Hermione’s bed. “Severus?” His eyes widen before narrowing in thought. “Oh,  _ Severus… _ ” He glances over his shoulder at the slight figure curled up on the hospital bed, then back to the kneeling Potions Master. He moves forward quickly, his strong stride belying his apparent age, and when he reaches Severus, he hooks his hands under the younger man’s arms and helps him stagger over to the bed beside Hermione’s. 

 

With a wave of his hand, the curtain expands and surrounds both beds as he settles Severus on the empty one.

 

“What the bloody  _ fuck _ is happening, Albus?” Severus’ voice is gravelly and sounds rather short of breath. “It’s almost as if there is some kind of shield around this place. The closer I came to the infirmary, the harder it is to hear; the beating…”

 

Albus nods, waving his wand over Severus before dismissing the diagnostic spell with a flick. “Fascinating.” The headmaster clears his throat, motioning to the other bed with his free hand while waving the wand and settling a perimeter around the cluster of beds, followed by a  _ muffliato. _ “Miss Granger has reached her magical majority.”

 

Dark eyes flicker from the old man over to the trembling form, curled up in the fetal position, on the bed beside him. “And what, exactly, does that have to do with the infirmary, headmaster? Has her power gone rogue?”

 

Suddenly, a small voice gasps from behind the potions master and he glances over his shoulder to Poppy. She stands just on the other side of the bed he’s sitting on, her hands covering her mouth as she stares, wide-eyed, at Severus. 

 

“And what, Poppy, is the matter with  _ you _ ?” He scowls, his attention turning from the healer to the headmaster. “What is the chit doing?”

 

“I’m afraid, Severus, that none of this is Miss Granger’s doing. Rather, the fates.” Albus pauses, his sober blue eyes affixed on the potion master’s scowling countenance. He sighs slowly, with an inkling of just how well this information may be about to be taken. “Severus, Miss Granger - Hermione - has reached her magical majority. Rather traumatically, in fact; she was knocked unconscious while in the shower, sustained a bit of a bump on the head when she fell, and was found by her dorm mates.” He pauses again, watching the other man closely. “Poppy and I cannot hear what you or she has described, nor sense it in any other way. It’s… only the both of you.”

 

There is a long moment of silence, Severus’s penetrating gaze fastened on the headmaster, as though waiting for more information.

 

At the exact moment the knut drops, Albus briefly wishes for one of those muggle cameras. Severus’s eyes widen, the whites shining in stark contrast to the dark centers, his lips part as a sudden breath  _ whooshes _ from his lungs, and his hands curl into the bed beneath him, fisting the sheets between his fingers.

 

“No.”

 

Just one word, stark and hard.

 

“It is the only possibility we have, Severus. Soul mates are rare and a precious thing - the timing could be better, of course.”

 

The dark man leaps to his feet, one hand slashing through the air as he shouts. “The  _ timing _ ? The  _ timing _ could be better?!  _ That _ is your concern, Albus?! That your only concern from the possibility of the golden girl of Gryffindor possibly being  _ bonded _ to someone like  _ me _ is the  _ timing _ ?! Have you completely lost your mind?” 

 

“Severus -”

 

He continues on, stridently cutting off any consolation the headmaster may attempt. “And what of  _ me _ , Albus? This is not something I asked for, and how am I supposed to do my  _ other _ duties if there is  _ this _ as well? Not to mention she’s a  _ student _ ?! A student that I  _ have to teach _ !!”

 

“I’m not particularly jumping for joy by this revelation, either, sir.” The soft voice behind Albus cuts through the conversation and three gazes snap over to the girl in the hospital bed. Hermione pushes herself up carefully, drawing in deep breaths before she raises her suspiciously shiny eyes to her potion master’s. “I apologize for any  _ inconvenience _ , sir.”

 

Severus’s eyes narrow as he takes a short step closer to Hermione’s bed, nostrils flaring as he draws in a sharp breath, his molars grinding together as he spits out the words. “An  _ inconvenience _ is putting it mildly, Miss Granger.”

 

“Not that I chose you, or this at all, sir… though, I suppose there are worse outcomes.” She can’t seem to look away from his eyes as he moves closer still.

 

A sharp exhalation of annoyance, sounding suspiciously close to a snort, makes Hermione’s lips quirk as she watches the potion master. His shoulders relax minutely in the quiet lull, an action she would have missed if she hadn’t been watching him so closely.  _ Perhaps he was waiting for me to run, screaming, from the room. _

 

They are still staring at one another as Severus takes another step closer, and his thighs bump into the bed. Hermione’s eyes widen as the whole bed rocks and she flings out one hand as she wobbles.

 

When he reaches out as well, and their hands clasp, she cries out in surprise at the golden flare of light that subsides as quickly as it appeared.

 

“What the bloody hell was  _ that _ ?” Severus blinks the light from his eyes, before looking down to see his hand clasping Hermione’s.

 

Hermione just shakes her head slowly, her fingers still clutching his rather tightly. “I don’t know; I don’t know any of this!”

 

Albus clears his throat then, making the two of them jump and pull apart suddenly. Severus clenches his hand - the one that had been holding Hermione’s - before whirling on his heel and stalking from the infirmary.

 

“Well, that was rather abrupt.” Hermione frowns, watching the potion master leave before blinking in surprise. “Oh! I don’t hear the beating anymore.” Her brows furrow as she looks to the headmaster. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

 

“You know, I’m not really sure, my dear. I need to go check a few sources, maybe we can find some more information, hm?” Albus smiles benignly, before reaching out and patting Hermione’s hand lightly. “Why don’t you get some rest, while I do that? Poppy has some more potions for you, from Severus.”

 

Hermione nods slowly, her brows still drawn together. She watches Albus as he steps over to Poppy and the two leave the enclosed area together after Madam Pomfrey tells her she’ll be right back with the other potions she needs to take.

 

Once they’re gone, she shudders and rubs the hand that Albus touched against the blankets covering her legs. After he touched her, it felt as though she needed to thoroughly scrub the spot he’d patted. 

  
_ It certainly didn’t feel like that with Professor Snape… _


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everybody! Here's to a fantastic 2017!

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Later that night - after Harry and Ron have dropped off her schoolwork and her bag and long after dinner - Hermione lays in the infirmary bed, sleeping. She is unaware of the man sitting in the chair beside her bed, elbows propped up on his knees and chin in his hands. When she stirs and lets out a soft sound, rolling over to sprawl on her stomach, his eyes move to her, watching the steady rise and fall of her back as she sleeps. He stays by her side until the night sky deepens into dark velvet, soft and unfathomable. 

 

.oOo.

 

Early the next morning, with the sunlight still watery and cool, Madam Pomfrey bustles into the curtained area with a potion bottle in one hand, her wand in the other. She stops in her tracks at the sight of Hermione, sitting up in bed, an open book laying on her lap, but she’s not reading - her eyes are locked on the empty chair beside her bed, obviously lost in deep thought.

 

Madam Pomfrey smiles then clears her throat lightly, “Good morning, Miss Granger!”

 

Hermione jumps, her wand clutched in her hand pointing in the healer’s direction for a long moment before she relaxes and lets out an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry, Madam, I was wool gathering. Good morning.”

 

“And how are you feeling this morning?” The healer moves towards her patient, waving her wand over Hermione and casting the needed diagnostic spells.

 

“Better, thank you. My head isn’t aching anymore, and I feel rather normal. I believe I must have slept well, and rather deeply. I don’t even remember dreaming.” Hermione watches the older woman closely as she nods in satisfaction over the readings and dismisses them with a short flick of her wand. “Will I be allowed to attend classes today?”

 

“Well, you seemed to have healed quite well overnight. There is no lingering damage, and you appear well rested. So yes, I will allow you to be released to classes today.” 

 

Hermione lets out the large breath she is holding in, before beaming at the healer. “Oh, thank you, Madam!”

 

“ _ However. _ ” Madam Pomfrey narrows her eyes and points at the girl with one veiny finger. “You will need to drink one last dose of this potion, and then you will use the facilities here. I’ve already asked a house elf to bring you a change of clothes for the day, and your wash things. You’ll eat breakfast in here and  _ only then _ you may go to classes.”

 

With a slight scowl, she nods slowly. “Yes, madam. That’s acceptable.”

 

With a smirk, Poppy nods. “Good, because there was no alternative.”

 

Hermione opens her mouth to protest, and finds a cup full of a fizzy, light blue potion being shoved into her hands. She sniffs it, wrinkling her nose at the overwhelming scent of juniper berries, before drinking it down quickly and with a full body shiver.

 

“Good lass. Go have a shower, your things are in there already and I’ll have some breakfast ready for you when you get done. Now shoo.” Pomfrey waves a hand at Hermione, watching her with an eagle eye as she slips from the bed, tucking her feet into her slippers, and shuffling through the door right near the healer’s office.

 

Inside is a small bathroom - toilet, sink, and standing shower, all rather obviously for quick convenience rather than pleasure or relaxation. 

 

Sitting on the closed toilet lid is her basket of wash things, and folded neatly on the top of toilet are her clothes. After closing and locking the door, she finds her robes hanging, freshly pressed, and very recently cleaned and polished shoes tucked on the ground between the sink and toilet. She sighs deeply at the extra effort the elf (elves?) put into collecting her things before she strips off her clothes and slips into the shower. 

 

Standing under the hot spray, Hermione leans her forehead against the tile and closes her eyes. She draws in a deep breath, then another, before the tears begin to fall. She slides her hand between her mouth and the tile, sobbing softly into her palm. After a long few moments, she sucks in a breath and lets it out with a shudder before tilting her head back into the spray, the hot water washing away the salt from her face.

 

After her good cry, she scrubs from top to bottom thoroughly and, after turning off the shower, steps out. With a few quick drying charms and carefully plaiting her hair by hand - most of the beauty charms tend to overdry it and make it even bushier - she slips into her uniform. 

 

When she emerges from the bathroom, she walks back over to her bed, carrying her wash things in one hand and pajamas in the other. There’s a tray sitting on the bed with a light breakfast, a stasis charm keeping it all at the appropriate temperatures - eggs, beans, and toast, a large glass of juice, and a teacup full of creamy tea.

 

Dropping her things onto the foot of the bed, she grabs the tray and settles into the chair beside the bed and begins to eat, finding herself rather hungry. Within minutes, she’s polished off the meal, and is sipping her tea with a contented sigh. 

 

Breathing in the rich scent of the tea, her brows furrow slightly. It’s English breakfast, as is usually at the house table for breakfast, and made exactly how she prefers it - white, no sugar - but there’s something just slightly different about it. Hermione frowns at the cup, inspecting it carefully. The familiar cup is familiar from the everyday breakfast table; there are no odd scents or lingering potion taste. A quick wave of her wand shows no curses or hexes. It’s perfectly safe, just… different.

 

After about half of the cup, she realizes why it is different - it’s the same brand of tea, or very similar, as the one her mum buys, and that it’s a much more expensive blend than the typical school fare.

 

Madam Pomfrey comes bustling over then, with a large smile at the empty plates, before patting Hermione on the shoulder. “Good, you ate it all! You may go to classes, but be extra cautious - another head injury could do irreparable damage, and your magic may still be in a bit of a tizzy. Professor Dumbledore also sent a note while you were in the shower and would like to see you after lunch.”

 

Hermione sighs and nods. “Maybe he’s found out some additional information about my… problem.” She bites down on her lower lip, lacing her fingers together on her lap.

 

“Don’t worry, dear. Everything will be just fine.” The healer squeezes her shoulder and smiles, though this one doesn’t seem quite as sure as the last. “Now, off with you; classes start soon.”

 

Hermione nods and stands up, grabbing her bag from the floor as she goes, and reaches for her things on the bed - only to find them gone, the faintest wrinkle in the sheets betraying their absence. Sighing again over the insistence of house elves, Hermione heads off to class.

 

After meeting up with Harry and Ron, they attend the morning classes which went well, and soon found themselves at lunch. As soon as they are within shouting distance of the Great Hall, Hermione stops in her tracks. While this time there is no loud beating in her ears, she can  _ feel _ it. The double time beat in her veins, traveling through her chest to her fingers, pooling in her pelvic bone, tiny surges of electricity running through her entire body. 

 

Harry glances back then stops, grabbing Ron’s arm just as the redhead is about to push through a crowd of second years to get to lunch. “Hermione? You feeling ok?”

 

She jumps, pulling her gaze away from her hands to look at her best friends. “Oh, sorry, Harry. I just… thought I heard something. Sorry.” She smiles, mostly a pressing of her lips into a line, as she rejoins them and they enter the Great Hall.

 

With every step, she can feel the blood surge and she lets out a shuddering breath. Once settled at the table, she loads up her plate before taking a slow look around the large room. Everyone is busy eating and talking, some studying… except for three: Hermione, currently inspecting the hall; Professor Dumbledore, who is surveying the room as well, and who directs a kind smile in her direction when she turns her eyes in his direction; and Professor Snape, who is scowling down at his plate so fiercely as though its very existence is insulting him. 

 

After only a moment of gazing in his direction, his dark eyes snap up and meet hers directly. From the edges of her vision, Hermione can see his jaw clench, and they continue to stare at one another. Her fingers tense around the fork in her hand, squeezing the edges into her palm as they are locked in one another’s gazes.

 

Ron leans over, elbowing Hermione. “Hey, ‘Mione, can I have that plate of chips?”

 

Hermione gasps, jumping in surprise and whips around to stare at the redhead, wide-eyed. “What?”

 

“The chips?” His brows furrow as he motions with his knife.

 

“Oh! Yeah, sure, here you go.” She reaches over and grabs the shallow bowl, passing it to her friend with a smile. 

 

Harry leans over with a small frown. “Are you sure you’re feeling ok, Hermione? Your head doesn’t hurt?”   
  
She shakes her head and smiles. “No, really, I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind. I have a meeting with Professor Dumbledore after lunch.”

 

“Ohh! Well, better eat up, so you have your strength for that!” Ron snorts, and Hermione cringes away at the bit of flying food that escapes from his full mouth.

 

“Right, well… I’m going up, I’ll see you boys afterwards.” Hermione stands, slipping her bag over her shoulder before walking off with a slight smile. She pauses and glances over her shoulder as she passes through the Great Hall doors and sighs, the smile disappearing as there is no evidence of the potions master ever having been at the head table. The headmaster also missing from the table is expected.

 

_ At least I didn’t have potions today. _ She turns and heads to the stairs, trudging up them to the office.

 

As soon as she reaches the gargoyle, she frowns momentarily when she realizes that she doesn’t know the password… just as it spins off to the side and leaves the stairs open to her access.

 

“Oh, thank you.” Hermione takes the steps up, trembling as she knocks on the door. It swings open and she steps into Dumbledore’s office.

 

“Ah, Miss Granger. Lovely timing! Please, have a seat.” Dumbledore is settled behind the desk, and he watches as she slips into one of the large wingback chairs. “Would you care for some tea?” 

 

“Ah, thank you, Headmaster, that would be lovely.” There’s a lull as the tea service appears with a pop and two cups poured and prepared. 

 

Once they are settled, tea cups in hand, Dumbledore peers over his glasses at Hermione. “I have scoured my books and resources for what information I could find regarding your particular… circumstances, Miss Granger. As you know, soul mates  _ are _ very rare and there isn’t much information available. I have procured three books on soul bonding, as well as one journal written by one half of a soul mated pair.”

 

Hermione’s eyes widen as she sits up, her fingers clutching the tea cup. “Really? Oh, sir, that’s wonderful!”

 

“Yes, and no, Miss Granger. I’ve read through them myself and there is not much more information than what you may already have obtained by other means; however, you are free to take them and peruse them yourself.” He waves a hand and three books appear in the air, floating in front of her. Watching her grasp them and tuck them into her lap before continuing. “From all evidence, the bond between mates is as unique as each person. Many pairs report… symptoms that are fairly common, such as the hearing of another’s heartbeat, as you described yesterday, in the infirmary. Others mentioned different reactions, such as sensitivity to touch, a draw toward one another, and in the occasional case, a rather irrepressible desire to  _ be _ with their bond mate.”

 

Hermione’s eyes grow even wider as she pales, staring at Dumbledore in muted shock. “To…  _ be _ with, sir? As in…?” She waves a hand, wincing as her tea sloshes up the side of the cup and stings her finger.

 

“Yes, Miss Granger. As in.” The headmaster motions to her cup. “Why don’t you drink some tea while those thoughts settle in.” He watches until she takes a sip, before nodding and sipping his own tea.

 

The thoughts swirl through her head like a whirlwind as she sips steadily at the steaming tea. First is that the tea isn’t nearly as good as the tea she had in the infirmary.  _ It must have been Madam Pomfrey’s own tea; it was much better. _

 

Second is that this  _ bond _ could encourage her to, make her actually want to be with -  _ oh, grow up, Hermione; sex is a totally normal thing _ \- with the potions master.

 

As she drinks the tea, she finds herself sinking back into the chair, rather boneless. Her thoughts slow and settle, and after a long silence, she raises her eyes to Dumbledore with a slight frown. “Sir, is there something in the tea?”

 

“Ah, yes, a mild calming draught. I thought it may be needed during our conversation.” He twinkles at her as he sets his own cup down on the desk.

 

Hermione huffs, struggling for a moment to sit up again, before narrowing her eyes at the old man. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t do that again, sir. I don’t care to be impaired in such a way.” 

 

“I assumed you wouldn’t, and yet, here we are. It will wear off within the hour. Biscuit?” Dumbledore offers her the plate of assorted biscuits as she sets her teacup down, unfinished, on the small table between the wingback chairs.

 

“No, thank you, sir.” She lets out a sigh and frowns. “What about Professor Snape? Have you spoken to him further about this?”

 

“Ahh, no, not yet.” Dumbledore sets the plate down and steeples his fingers together as he leans his elbows on the desktop. “I will speak with him later tonight, after dinner. I’m afraid, Miss Granger, that this is a rather precarious position for both you and Severus. I suspect that you know at least some of the reasons why quite well.”

 

Hermione nods slowly, biting at her lower lip as her fingers twist and knot together. “Yes, sir. I… I will need to speak with him about it, we should discuss… this.”   
  
“Yes, you should. I’ll arrange time during the week where you can both meet and not be looked for, especially by our delightful Professor Umbridge. This  _ is _ rather important to straighten out.” Dumbledore twinkles at her again, before one of the silver machines on the shelves lets out a pleasing bell sound. “Ah, classes will be recommencing shortly. I’d get down to Care of Magical Creatures, if I were you, Miss Granger. You’ll receive my note about a meeting time by lunch tomorrow.”

 

She nods as she stands, weaving momentarily as she gathers her bag and heads towards the door. “Yes, sir, thank you. Have a pleasant afternoon, Headmaster.”   
  
“You as well, Miss Granger.” She reaches the door before he speaks again. “Oh, and Miss Granger?”

 

“Yes, sir?” Hermione stops and looks back to the old man, her hand resting on the door.

 

“There is one commonality reported from every bonded couple that I could discover… but there is no known way to eliminate the bond, and many tried, as you may discover. Just something to keep in mind during your reading and discussion.” Dumbledore’s face is serious as he watches her reaction.

 

Hermione lets out a slow breath as he confirms one of her suspicions before she nods slowly. “I kind of assumed, sir; thank you for the attention you’ve dedicated to this. I better go.” She smiles tremulously as she slips through the doorway, rushing down the stairs and through the halls. As soon as she steps outside, she pauses to wipe her face, before pushing on to Hagrid’s hut.

 

She’s utterly unaware of the pair of dark eyes watching her leave the castle and head down the winding pathway to her class.

 

The remainder of Hermione’s day goes well, despite the tumultuous state of her thoughts. Care of Magical Creatures, followed by Herbology, keeps her busy and distracted from the tempest in her mind.

  
The next day, however, does  _ not _ go so well.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay, y'all! We in the South got quite a bit of snow and we've been occupied outside. :) Without further ado, I present: two steps forward... and one leap back.

CHAPTER FIVE

 

The day begins well enough. Hermione leaves Gryffindor tower early to stop by and apologize to her teachers for missing class two days before, which quite  _ luckily _ excludes Professor Snape, as she is aware of how unprepared she is for meeting with him just yet. The idea of meeting with him alone and in the near future is nerve wracking enough.

 

Transfiguration and Herbology go by quickly, followed by lunch where Hermione picks at her food listlessly; in her growing anxiety the food tasting more like ash than the delicious meal it is usually. The only blessing so far has been the lack of Professor Snape and the accompanying distraction that his proximity creates. Umbridge, of course, is at the table, staring down at the students as though willing them to bend to her will purely by her presence.

 

As lunch ends, Hermione frowns a bit as she remembers Dumbledore’s words - she hasn’t received any note from him about meeting with Professor Snape in private. She shoulders her bag as she, Harry and Ron prepare to leave for Care of Magical Creatures, and resolves to wait the rest of the day; maybe he hasn’t had the opportunity to arrange the time, yet.

 

They make it to the Great Hall doors before she feels the surge in her blood, and the faintest crackle of energy at her fingertips and her eyes move to the dungeon stairway.

 

Within a few more heart beats, Severus sweeps into the entryway from the dungeons, fierce scowl affixed on his face as he heads straight and hard for the trio. Harry spots him a moment later, the scowl on his face reflecting the professor’s.

 

Severus’s dark eyes, glittering in the sunlight, pin down Hermione with a sneer. “Miss Granger. The headmaster has requested that you be allowed  _ make up time _ for your missed potion on Monday. You will report to the classroom directly after dinner, tonight, or you will receive no credit, nor any other opportunity to make up your…  _ absence _ .” 

 

Harry scowls even more fiercely, his hands balling up as he takes a step towards Snape, mouth open to say something that will surely earn him detention. Ron’s face is almost as red as his hair as he fists his hand in Harry’s shirt, pulling him a step back, as Hermione slips in front of the boys, keeping her eyes locked on the potion master’s black-clad shoulder. “Yes, sir, I appreciate it. Thank you.”

 

She glances over her shoulder at the boys, both of whom are staring at her with shocked expressions, before she turns back to their professor. She starts in surprise, finding that he’s taken two steps closer and all she would need to do to touch him is reach out, he’s just  _ right there _ , within reach…

 

Her eyes move up, following the line of buttons on his frock coat almost involuntarily, and their gazes snap together like two puzzle pieces. They find themselves locked together again, staring at one another raptly, until Harry grabs Hermione’s elbow and pulls her back with a snarky, “We need to get to class. Come on, Hermione.”

 

After a stumble, she regains her feet and glares at Harry, yanking her arm out of his grasp. “Yes, yes, I’m  _ coming _ , Harry.” She glances back over her shoulder at Severus’ frozen figure. “I’ll be there, tonight, directly after dinner, Professor.” She notes his tense shoulders, pale hands curled into fists, and his dark eyes glaring furiously at Harry. At the sound of her voice, his eyes snap towards her then immediately veer to the vicinity of her forehead.  _ So he’s noticed it, too.  _ He nods once, sharply, before turning on his heel and disappearing up one of the stairs that lead farther into the castle.

 

Once he has gone, and the pulsing in her body settles again, Hermione glares at Harry. “That was  _ rude _ , Harry. You should treat  _ all _ of the professors with more respect, whether you like them or not.”

 

“It’s Snape, Hermione. What has he done to earn any respect, much less me being nice to him?” The green eyed boy shrugs and ignores Hermione’s huff as they make their way outside and down to Hagrid’s hut for class. Ron pats Harry’s shoulder, walking along with him and doing his best to ignore Hermione’s irate stare at their backs, all the while very probably commiserating with Harry under their breath about the great greasy git as they roam slightly ahead of her.

 

Hermione sighs, bowing her head a bit as they walk down the path. Her nerves are stretched as tight as a drumskin, and she just knows that their first meeting is going to be difficult.

 

.oOo.

 

Trembling, Hermione stops in front of the potions classroom, staring at the dark wood directly in front of her. Dinner isn’t even finished yet, but finding herself unable to eat more than a few mouthfuls, she leaves to come down to the dungeons early. Snape hadn’t even shown up to dinner, but as she had neared the classroom moments earlier, the pulsing throb she now associates with his nearness began deep in her chest.

 

She raises her hand, knocking hard three times on the door. After only a moment, there is the sensation of magic melting away from in front of her and the door unlocks and creaks open, just slightly. She swallows hard then pushes the door further open as she steps into the classroom.

 

His deep voice comes from the front of the gloomy room, from somewhere near his desk, making her startle in surprise. “Close the door, Miss Granger, and come inside before I change my mind.”

 

Hermione pushes the door to and then gasps as, her fingertips still touching the wood, the surge of magic that locks and wards the door, it must be  _ his  _ magic, sends a pulse of electricity through her body. It runs up her arm and down her spine, pooling between her thighs with a delicious  _ throb _ .

 

_ Oh my God, I’m _ … She shudders at the realization that just the mere touch of his magic against her skin has elicited such a physical reaction. Her thighs tense, squeezing together in an effort to alleviate the pulse in her knickers.

 

Jerking her hand from the door, she whirls around and, clutching her bag to her chest, moves into the room and up to the front. “Should I work at my usual place, sir?”

 

The shadows stir as he rises from his seat behind the desk, dark eyes glittering like two black stones set into a pale bust. The analogy is apt; it is as though he has been carved from stone, the prominent nose, lips pressed into a hard line, the perpetual crease between his brows, high defined cheekbones, all contained within pale skin.

 

“No. We will be discussing this… situation. Come.” He turns and, reaching out to the wall directly behind his desk, taps a series of bricks with his wand. Much like Diagon Alley’s entrance behind the Leaky Cauldron, the bricks melt and reform into a door. With another tap, and a small flare of magic that causes Hermione to squint in the dark room, the door opens and Snape steps through. 

 

Hermione gulps, squeezing her arms around her bag even tighter, before following after her professor. Stepping around his desk and through the doorway, she stops suddenly at the warmth of this new room, especially in comparison to the chilly dungeon classroom.

 

A fire is blazing in the fireplace set on the right side wall, providing most of the illumination in what appears to be a sitting room. A plush green couch sits in front of the fire with a large wingback chair just to the side, and a low dark wood table in between; beneath them all is a thick rug of cream and brown. Two of the walls not holding the fireplace are filled from corner to corner with bookshelves, packed full of books and scrolls and boxes. There are two closed doors set into the remaining wall, and even from across the room, from the corner of her eye, she can make out the faint glimmer of his wards preventing entry and who knows what else.  _ Probably some interesting curses for any intruders. _

 

Severus clears his throat and her eyes jump to him then quickly focus on the splash of white cloth at his throat, the better to not be drawn into the fathoms of his eyes as has been the trend over the past days.

 

When he finally speaks, it sounds as though his molars have been permanently glued together. “You may leave your bag. Come and sit down.”

 

_ So much for manners behind closed doors. _ Hermione nods, stepping forward slowly and letting her bag slide down before she sets it carefully on the floor at the end of the couch. As she steps closer, a number of candles ignite and provide the room with extra light. She hesitates, glancing over at her professor, before shrugging out of her outer robe, and laying it across the end of the couch. While still wearing her uniform, she reasons that just maybe removing the robes will make her appear slightly less student-like in his presence.

 

Snape watches her closely, standing in almost the exact manner as she remembers him best, from his first and only visit to her home: standing behind the chair, arms clasped behind him, and gaze fixed in one location. At least this time, he’s looking at her, rather than a cabinet full of china.

 

Once she settles in the middle of the surprisingly comfortable couch, her fingers knotted together in her lap, she finally lets her gaze lock onto Severus. He’s still standing, though he’s finally moved around the chair, and seems to be hovering with indecision, his brows drawn tightly together.  _ At least he’s not scowling… at the moment. _

 

Just as she opens her mouth, he settles onto the chair abruptly, one leg crossed at the ankle over the other and he speaks, teeth still clenched. “Would you like some tea, Miss Granger?” 

 

Hermione blinks, her lips parting in surprise, before she nods. “That would be lovely, sir.”

 

Severus snaps his fingers and a rather plain tea service appears on the table. There is a pause before he lets out a soft sound, a low  _ hm _ . He leans forward and Hermione bites down on her lip before she makes her decision. Slipping from the couch to kneel beside the table, she reaches out with trembling fingers and flips the cups. “Allow me, sir?”

 

He freezes, his eyes locked onto her form before he nods, once, tersely. “With one sugar.” 

 

Her lips quirk and she nods before busying herself with preparing the tea. One sugar to his and a quick stir with the spoon then she passes the cup to him; extra cream in hers, with no sugar, and there she hesitates, before reluctantly standing from the soft plush carpet and sliding back onto the couch.

 

The first sip draws out a deep sigh from her as she cradles the cup on her hand, the warmth seeping through the porcelain and into her skin. After the second swallow, she blinks at the cup in surprise. 

 

It’s the same tea as from the infirmary.

 

Her eyes flick up from the teacup and over to the potions master who sits, watching her, teacup settled into his large hand. “This is different tea than the rest of the school receives.”

 

One dark brow arches as he continues to stare at her.

 

“Why did I receive it for breakfast in the infirmary? Instead of the usual, I mean?” Hermione’s eyes focus on the arched eyebrow. Close enough to his eyes to not be rude, but not so close as to get sucked into his gaze.

 

“Because the tea that the rest of the school drinks is a cheap blend purchased in bulk, hardly more than brown water, and meant for those who drink it as such.” His voice is dry and soft; the low tones send a small tingle down her spine.

 

Hermione pauses, chewing at her lower lip for a moment as she processes his words. Carefully sipping the hot, creamy tea, she lets out a sigh of contentment. “I much prefer it, thank you, sir. It’s rather the same as the blend my mum prefers.” She takes another swallow, before lowering the cup to her lap, her gaze moving with the cup. “I want to apologize, sir. I know… I know that this isn’t a situation that you asked for, and that it’s only an additional worry, and I am very sorry for that.”

 

The quiet rustle of cloth alerts her that he’s shifted his position and suddenly, she finds a plate of biscuits being offered to her by one long hand. She starts, her eyes flying up to his, and just like that, she’s trapped.

 

She plucks a piece of shortbread from the small plate and it withdraws as he sets the plate down again as she nibbles on the corner. 

 

“I would accept the apology if there were anything  _ you _ had done, Miss Granger. However, this is yet one more way that some primordial force has seen fit to prevent me finding any peace. You need not apologize for that; it is well and truly out of your hands.” His lips twist into a faint sneer and she frowns, her brows furrowing. 

 

“Perhaps that’s true, sir, but…”

 

“Enough, Miss Granger. No apologies.” Face smoothing into an expressionless mask, Severus settles back into the chair, gaze locked on hers. “Albus spoke to me and entreated me to be  _ kind _ to you, and to not turn you away. Which I  _ should _ do; neither of us wish for this, nor do we have the time for such a complication.”

 

Hermione frowns, leaning forward to set her teacup on the table, her eyes narrowing in his direction. “No, sir, those are all true, but…”   
  
“There are no  _ buts _ , Miss Granger. This is a cruel joke of fate, and nothing will come of it.” Severus’s voice is sharp and stinging, biting the words out as though little is keeping him from snarling them.

 

“Sir! No, I know this is not something either of us wanted or asked for, but… it’s not a curse! Finding one's soul mate is… it’s, it’s  _ magical _ .” Her fingers tighten around the sturdy cup as she stares at him, brown eyes wide and entreating.

 

Severus snarls then, shaking his head hard, mere force of will yanking his eyes from hers, and flinging his lank hair into his face. “No, Miss Granger. Not this time. Finding one’s soul mate, in this instance, is rather akin to being pushed from behind, off a cliff; you have no choice in the matter, and you’ll find yourself dead even before striking the rocks below.”

 

Hermione gapes up at him, her lips parting with a soft  _ pop _ . “Professor…” She watches him surge to his feet, teacup tossed carelessly to the table with a slosh as he strides away, then back, pacing angrily in front of the fireplace. “I  _ know _ that this isn’t the best time for this kind of thing, and with the war coming, and You Know Who returned… the extra stress…”

 

Severus whirls around with a billow of his robes, his fiercest scowl directed at her with fiercely burning eyes. “The _timing_? You sound like the old man, and I couldn’t give a fuck about the _timing_! If the Dark Lord finds that I have a _soul mate_ , do you know what would happen to you?” He stalks over to her, looming over her from his height. “He would take you, Miss Granger. He would take you from your safe little bubble and put you in a room and keep you there to ensure _my_ _loyalty_. He would torture you, and me, and God help us if we share pain through this so-called _bond_ , because he would use it mercilessly to ensure our _cooperation_.” His chest heaves as though he’s run a great distance, all while glaring down at her, his hands fisted at his sides. 

 

She gulps, before carefully turning her eyes up to his, though he avoids her direct gaze. “I know, sir. I’m very much aware of these things, which is why I gave you my apology.” Her tongue briefly appears as she wets her dry lips. “I know you didn’t ask for this -”

 

His face changes then, the anger disappearing and leaving behind cold, immovable stone. The only life in his face is the icy fire in his eyes. “No, Miss Granger. That’s where you’re wrong. I once wished for a soul mate, but she was nothing like  _ you _ .”

 

The words themselves are harsh, flung in her direction like so many stones cast from his hand, and they hit their mark. She feels the ache in her chest as though he has physically struck her. She stands, tilting her head up to stare at his throat, ignoring the tears standing in her eyes and the trembling of her voice. “I’m sorry to have taken up your valuable time, sir.”

  
She spins, grabbing the strap of her bag and almost runs from the room, the door slamming shut behind her with a surge of her magic. She almost makes it all the way to an empty classroom before the tears begin to fall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In which Severus is a bit of a berk... again. But Hermione gets a win, too. And the more important one, I think.

CHAPTER SIX

 

For the rest of the week, Hermione finds it exceedingly easy to avoid the potions master. With a built in proximity alarm, anytime she feels the steady thudding pulse spread through her extremities, she suddenly remembers something she needs to do, elsewhere in the castle, as far away as possible.

 

She also knows her time is limited; with Potions class coming on Monday, she won't be able to avoid him for much longer.

 

On Sunday morning, she finds the robes she had left behind on his sitting room, now clean and pressed, hanging in their place with the rest of her uniforms. She resolutely ignores the stinging in her eyes upon discovering them, and heads downstairs to the common room to get in some homework before accompanying the boys to the Quidditch pitch. 

 

Soon enough, Monday and the day before Halloween dawns with a bite in the air. After a quick breakfast and History of Magic, where Hermione is so distracted that her notes are only about two-thirds as detailed as they normally are, she and the rest of the Gryffindors head down to the dungeons for Potions. 

 

Hermione takes her time, lingering at the back of the crowd. When the door creaks opens, with a faint glimmer of magic in the corner of her eye, she frowns at the lack of the secondary pulse she’s been expecting. The classroom is empty when they all enter, which isn’t all that unusual as the potions master likes to make an entrance, and everyone settles onto their stools while waiting.

 

Just moments before class officially begins, the pulse slams into Hermione’s chest out of nowhere, making her jerk and almost tumble from her stool, one foot slipping from the rung to brace her leg against the floor. Within another heartbeat, the classroom door slams open and Snape sweeps in. 

 

A wave of his wand and words appear on the chalkboard as he stalks through the classroom to his desk, and when he speaks, his voice is tense. “The instructions are on the board. Fetch what you need from the cupboard and brew it. There will be no need for discussion or questions. You all have exactly an hour and a half to complete this brew. Begin.”

 

There is a lull as the entire class gapes at the professor in shock, some of the more courageous even exchanging glances with their housemates, before Severus leans forward, hands planted on his desk, scowling ferociously at the classroom, his voice low and hard. “ _ Now. _ ”

 

The classroom erupts into motion as everyone pulls out their cauldrons and supplies, digging through bags and potion kits, and making their way to the student’s supply cupboard. After another twenty minutes or so of movement, the class settles into the brewing of the day’s potion, a standard blood replenisher.

 

Hermione, while always studious, is particularly focused that day. She keeps her head bent over her work, eyes only moving from blackboard to ingredients to cauldron and back around as she brews. Anything to keep her eyes from landing on the source of her emotional turmoil.

 

For once, there are no explosions, from persons or potions, throughout the entire class period. Everyone, picking up on Snape’s mood, is laser focused and produce some of their personal best quality potions.

 

Hermione finishes her potion, glancing around as she’s done a few minutes before any of the others, and panics for a moment before swallowing it down.  _ It’s not my fault he’s being a right git. I’ll just turn it in and be done.  _ She does spend an extra few moments cleaning up her area and decanting her potion. Grasping the bottle tightly, she moves forward to his desk and stops, hovering just within reach.

 

Without looking up from the papers he’s been marking during the entire period, Snape growls. “Yes?”

 

“I’ve finished my potion, sir.” She offers the bottle to him, proud that her hands tremble only slightly.

 

The quill stops, and his head tilts up just slightly, the glitter in his dark eyes boding no good. “And?”

 

Hermione pauses then narrows her eyes slightly at the infuriating man. “And I am now turning it into you, sir. As we always do.”

 

His dark head tilts up further, eyes narrowing as his nostrils flare with the force of the breath he expels through his nose. “At what point, Miss Granger, did I ask you to turn it in?”

 

She hesitates at that. In that moment, she realizes how silent the classroom is behind her; the only sounds are from the bubbling of approximately two dozen potions. Compressing her lips into a tight line, she looks down at the bottle as she draws in a deep breath through her nose. The lingering, familiar scents of the potions classroom fill her lungs, as well as a strong whiff of sandalwood. 

 

Severus’s voice breaks the silence, cold and slow - glacial. “ _ Well _ , Miss Granger? Is there a reason why you have brought me your potion early? Has the know-it-all decided that she no longer needs instruction?”   
  
A titter from behind her - from her left, so it must be from a Slytherin - makes her shoulders tense and she shakes her head carefully. “No, sir. I completed the potion and assumed you would want it turned in, as usual protocol. I’ll just sit back down, then.” Hermione steps back, her head still bowed.

 

“Yes, Miss Granger. Do sit. And remain there, after class. Ten points from Gryffindor for failing to follow directions.” The potions master raises his head to survey the class as she walks back to her place and slips onto the stool. Without raising his voice, Severus instructs the rest of the class. “Once you have completed your potions, decant them and bring them to my desk. You should be completing them  _ now _ , not early, nor in five minutes.”

 

Hermione closes her eyes, and tries to tune out Harry’s hissing from beside her. “That’s not  _ fair,  _ Hermione! You’re great at potions and you finished it a few minutes early, so what?! That greasy  _ bastard… _ ”

 

She turns her head in his direction just slightly and whispers. “Harry,  _ stop _ , please. You’ll just get into trouble yourself. It’s fine, really. Turn in your potion; I’ll see you all at lunch.” She glances up at him from under her lashes and gives him a wobbly smile.

 

With a growl and a shake of his head, Harry does as she instructs him, scowling at Snape the entire time. The dark-clad man only sneers in return, watching the younger boy grab his bag and stomp from the room, dragging an equally upset Ron along with him by the arm.

 

Hermione glances up just as Malfoy passes, followed by some of the other Slytherins, then just looks away again when the blond smirks down at her. After a few more minutes, though to her it feels like a lifetime, the sound of feet and shuffling stops as the remainder of the students exit the room.

 

The sound of the door closing is heavy and final, like the stone rolling across the tomb.

 

The silence weighs heavily on her mind as she sits, hands wrapped together in her lap and her eyes fastened on the bottle still sitting on the desktop. Even when the rustle of cloth alerts her to his movement, still she sits, gaze averted.

 

“Miss Granger.”

 

Her head twitches in his direction slightly in acknowledgment. She doesn’t want to look at him, she doesn’t want to him to see how upset he’s made her, and not just in class today.

 

“ _ Miss Granger _ , look at me when I’m speaking to you!” Severus’s voice snaps and he sounds much closer than he was a few moments ago.

 

“I’d rather not, sir. I don’t want to impose upon you further, and if I look at you, I don’t know what will happen. May I go now?”

 

There’s a momentary pause, then a soft sigh from close by.

 

“...Hermione.”

 

She’s unable to keep still at  _ that _ ; her head jerks up in shock and she looks at him, eyes huge in her face.

 

He stands across the table from her with sober eyes locked on her. She can see the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, though he manages to keep his eyes on her.

 

“I may have been made aware of how… unkind I was. I am… angry, Miss Granger. And you well know, I am not a kind man.” She can almost hear as he grinds his teeth together. “I apologize, for the hurt I caused you.”

 

Hermione can’t help herself, her mouth popping open in surprise as she stares at him. “I- I can’t say it’s all right, because it isn’t.” Her eyes narrow suddenly as she presses her palms to the table. “And who pointed out your folly? Professor Dumbledore?”

 

Severus’s eyes narrow back at her. “Yes, Professor Dumbledore.”

 

“That  _ meddlesome _ old man.” She huffs, scowling down at her hands, pale against the dark tabletop.

 

At the sound of a snort, suspiciously like an aborted laugh, her eyes shoot back up to the dark-haired man. 

 

“Your sentiments are shared.” His eyes wander to the side for a moment before he looks back at her, their gazes meeting. “Tell your friends you have detention tonight.”

 

Hermione’s brows arch as she returns his gaze. “But I won’t  _ actually _ , will I?”

 

“You’re the know it all, girl; what do you think?” He snarls slightly, dark eyes narrowing at her.

 

“Yes, fine, I get it.” Hermione frowns at him. “I know how you must act in public, around the others… but would it really hurt anything to be a little kinder in private?”

 

Severus’s dark brows fly high on his head as he looks at her, the faintest look of shock flashing across his face before he scowls at her. “You never know if we are truly _ in private _ .”

 

She snorts, crossing her arms over her chest as she gives him a look as dry as the Sahara. “Really? You’re trying to say that as one of the most powerful wizards in the castle, you’re unable to know if someone unwanted is nearby?” 

 

“Hnn.” He lets out a soft sound, whether in agreement of her words or not she’s unsure, but she  _ is _ fairly sure that the briefest look of surprise that flashes across his face  _ is _ all in her imagination. “Be here tonight, seven o’clock. Now go, before your  _ friends _ attempt to break down my door.” He turns and strides behind his desk, and with a flick of his wand, he slips through the hidden door, disappearing into the other room. As soon as the door shuts, it fades from view, though she can make out the lingering glow from the wards.

 

Hermione sighs and shakes her head, before frowning down at the bottle still sitting on the tabletop. She huffs, picking it up and walking to set it on his desk with the others, before scooping up her bag and heading out of the classroom.

 

The tingle of his magic as she opens and closes the door teases her senses, goosebumps erupting across her skin, after finding Harry and Ron lingering in the hall, she heads up to lunch with the boys.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello, everyone! Here is chapter seven! :D And with it, a brief note:
> 
> If you follow my tumblr, you may know that I've gotten a new (fairly demanding!) job in an elementary school! Yay! :D But with that, my free time has been cut short. D: So, I am going to do my best to stick with weekly updates, but please don't hold me to it. Also, in order to have a bit more time for the writing, I will no longer be answering reviews (unless I'm asked a specific question). But please know that I am reading everything single one of them!
> 
> Thank you for reading! *hearts*

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

When Hermione tells Harry and Ron that she has detention with the potions master, she is momentarily worried that they are about to get up and storm the head table in protest. She smiles, warmed by their indignation for her, as she talks them down.

"It won't be that bad," she says. "It'll probably just be preparing ingredients or cleaning cauldrons. Don't worry about it."

She feels only a little bad for lying to them so blatantly. _But as long as they never know, right? I mean, eventually they'll know, because it's not like we can get rid of this bond, but… for now. After everything is over, but for now…_ She doesn't even allow herself to complete the thought; she's not even sure what is going to happen before the end, nor does she really want to contemplate the possibilities. Not yet.

The rest of the day slips by, and before she knows it, she is leaving the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room and heading down into the dungeons.

Knocking on the potions classroom door, she hesitates before quickly pressing her hand against the wood, curious. When the surge of magic flows through the door, it moves and sweeps across her skin, eliciting a gasp. She shudders as his magic curls through her. Pushing through the door, she walks into the classroom, then closes the door, tilting her head as she keeps her hand on this side as well.

The second surge of magic almost buckles her knees, the same throbbing pulse slipping through her body as she shivers. "Dear God…"

"What exactly are you doing?" His voice comes from far away, and Hermione whirls around in surprise, eyes widening as she presses her back against the door.

"Wh-what?"

Severus strides toward her, eyes narrowed suspiciously as a dark brow arches. "What are you doing with the door?"

Hermione shakes her head quickly. "I'm not sure, exactly? It's, it sounds crazy, I've never felt anything like it, but… I can _feel_ your magic."

There is a moment of silence as he stares down at her, his face blank. "You can…" He stops, scowling around the room before he motions for her to follow him. He moves quickly through the room, and that's when her jaw drops - he isn't wearing his usual billowing robes. Still clad in black from head to toe, but the voluminous robes are missing.

"Well? Get in here, Miss Granger." He stands at the hidden door, only the smallest of scowls still on his face as he waits for her to come along.

"Oh, sorry!" Hermione pushes off the door and heads in his direction, smiling apologetically as she slips through the open doorway and into his comfortable and mercifully warm sitting room.

She trails her fingers along the back of the couch as she hesitates, looking over her shoulder at him as he closes the door and walks over to the large chair. Nibbling on her lower lip, she perches on the edge of the couch, knees turned to face him. As he settles, she takes the few moments to observe him. Without the teaching robes and clad in snug trousers and black frock coat, he appears much leaner. His hair, she just notices, has been pulled back from his face, tucked in a short queue.

Severus settles into his seat and then looks over to her. Frowning at her direct gaze, he shifts uncomfortably before suddenly raising a hand to his hair, as though to remove the hair tie.

"Oh, don't… please." Hermione smiles at him, mostly a quirk of the lips. "It's so much easier to see your face and…" She trails off, biting down on her lower lip.

"And…?" He arches a brow, watching her closely and noting the faintest pink blush creeping across her cheekbones as she glances away from him.

"And it looks nice pulled back. I like it." She says the words quickly but clearly, though she still won't pull her eyes away from the fireplace.

Luckily for him, her averted gaze means that she doesn't see the surprised look on his face, nor the faint blush that he feels burning on his ears. "Hn." He clears his throat, one long hand fingering the hem of his coat. "I was brewing and couldn't risk a hair falling into the potion."

"Of course, that makes sense." Hermione nods, before forcing her eyes to look back over to him.

They sit, staring in one another's direction for a long moment. The only sound is the crackle of the fire. Severus's eyes are focused somewhere near her right ear, while Hermione fixes her gaze on the bit of white cravat tied around his neck that is visible.

Finally, Severus speaks first, with a small cough. "We have quite a bit to discuss. Would you like some tea?"

Hermione nods, smiling in his direction. "Yes, please, tea would be lovely."

He nods, snapping his fingers. Just as before, the plain cream colored tea service appears. This time, there is also a plate with a pile of finger sandwiches along with the plate of biscuits. Hermione chuckles softly before waving her hands at him when he reaches for the cups. "I'll pour." She slides from the couch to kneel on the soft carpet and proceeds to do so, preparing his tea as he likes it, before pouring her own. She nudges the plate of sandwiches in his direction, smiling as he takes a chicken salad and then a cucumber as well as three chocolate biscuits from the other plate.

She passes his cup to him, her eyes flicking up towards his as he accepts it. His fingertips brush lightly against hers and she collects her own sandwiches and biscuits. She hesitates, hovering for a moment before glancing towards him. "Do you mind if I sit on the floor? It's not exactly proper, but it's familiar, and this rug is just so soft."

Severus pauses in the act of sipping his tea before blinking down at her slowly. "I don't mind, no; so long as you don't mind that you're sitting on the _floor_." The dry tone of his voice tells her just what he thinks of her antics, and with a small grin and a shrug, she proceeds to devour one of the sandwiches and a biscuit before drinking some tea.

They eat and drink in the quiet of his sitting room. Once they have settled back into their chairs, tiny sandwiches decimated and tea cups refilled, Severus fixes his dark eyes on Hermione. "How do you mean that you feel my magic?"

Her eyes flick up to his, startled at his sudden question. "Oh. Well, it's unusual, isn't it? I can just… feel it. I'm afraid I don't understand it myself; it must be from the bond. If I am touching something, such as your classroom door, and it locks or unlocks, the warding goes up or down… I can feel the magic. It's electric, but warm and… rather like a blanket. Comforting?" She licks her lips, hesitating for a moment too long.

"What else, Miss Granger?"

"You know, perhaps you should call me Hermione, at least when we're here? If we are to get to know one another and all that." She smiles nervously, taking a slightly too large swallow of her tea and wincing as it burns her tongue.

"Hn." Severus watches her, sipping his own tea carefully. As soon as she's swallowed, he speaks again. "What else is there, _Hermione_?"

She presses her lips together as she breathes slowly out of her nose. There is literally no way in _hell_ is she telling him that feeling his magic isn't just comforting but downright exciting… _arousing_. She licks her lips quickly then looks back to him, her eyes wide as she remembers something. "I can see the wards."

"You can _what_?" His dark eyes widen in surprise as he leans towards her, the teacup in his hands forgotten.

"I can see the wards. Well, sort of. Mostly from the corner of my eyes. Yours seem to be the easiest for me to spot, I'm assuming that's also because of the bond. But I can also see others through the castle. I saw them rather clearly in the infirmary the night after my… maturation." Her nose wrinkles at the memory of waking in the hospital wing.

Severus's gaze flicks to her nose before shifting up just a bit. "And elsewhere in the castle?"

"Not nearly so clearly, no. Some seem to be stronger, maybe newer? Or put up by an especially strong witch or wizard. I can see those if I'm not really paying attention. In the library, the headmaster's office… yours." She swallows, her gaze dropping to the teacup in her hands.

There is a long moment of silence before his voice comes again. "That's extraordinary, Hermione."

Her eyes move up to his, her lips parted in a little 'O' of surprise before she finally speaks. "Yes, I rather thought so as well, sir."

One corner of his mouth twitches in the faintest suggestion of a smile and he settles back into his chair. One hand moves up, propping his chin in his palm, and he rubs the side of his thumb against his lower lip, deep in thought.

Hermione tilts her head, watching him closely, her eyes fixed on that thumb. _When he's relaxing, he looks so much younger, not so… sad._

She watches him pick up his cup and sip at the cooling tea, the way his lips press against the edge, and his long fingers curl around the curves of the cup. With a moment of startling clarity, she looks down at the small plate sprinkled with crumbs just in front of her to hide the wide-eyed blush. _I am not entirely opposed to spending the rest of my life bonded to this man; even if he's reluctant now, it shouldn't be so bad. We could be content. He said he wished for a soul mate once; I wonder who it was, what happened… if he'll change his mind. Maybe one day he'll tell me…_ They sit in silence, with his thoughts who knows where, and hers circling and tangling.

When her thoughts click together like puzzle pieces, Hermione opens her mouth as the words spill from her tongue. "Is it…" She trails off then looks up at him with wide, doe-like eyes. "Is it because there's someone _else_? Do you have someone else? Why didn't I think of that? That's it, isn't it?"

Severus sputters into his teacup before setting it aside quickly to wipe at his coat with a handkerchief dug from one of his pockets. "Her - Miss -!" He cuts himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose of a moment. "No, there is _not_ anyone else, nor has there been in… in, well, _that's_ not the point." He turns his head away from her to stare into the fire, the ear left bared to her gaze by his pulled back hair red down to the lobe.

Hermione shifts, moving her legs from underneath her to stretch them out along the floor, sighing at the feel of the plush carpet on the skin under her skirt. "Well, that's good, then."

He blinks at the fire then glances over, peering at her from the corner of his eye. "Is it?"

"Yes, it is." She smiles up at him, nibbling at the inner edge of her lip.

"Hm." He watches her for another moment before looking back over to the fire. He never sees her small victory wiggle.

Later that night, after the tea is long gone and Hermione is tucked back into her bed in Gryffindor Tower, she recalls the moment when she was about to step through the door back into the potions classroom to leave.

_Severus stands a few steps behind her. Just as she reaches for the door handle, he clears his throat, and she glances back over her shoulder at him. "Yes?"_

" _I believe… that is, it would be acceptable for you to call me Severus, when we are here." His dark eyes are averted, though the faint red blush at the tips of his ears is distractingly endearing._

_She bites down hard on her lower lip as she hesitates, before she bounces back over to him to throw her arms around his waist and squeeze him quickly. Before he can even react, she pulls back, dropping her arms with a smile wide across her face. "That is very acceptable. Goodnight… Severus." She scampers out of the sitting room and into the cold classroom before he can, presumably, berate her in some manner. The lingering scent of tea on his coat and sandalwood and chocolate on his breath stays with her for the entire walk._

Rolling over in her bed, Hermione buries her face into her pillow, pulling the blankets up to her ears as she drifts off with a smile on her face.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I totally forgot to post this chapter last time! D: I'm so sorry! My AO3 readers get a double chapter day! :D

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

Of course, the rest of the week couldn’t stay as pleasant as it began. Halloween passed with no unusual drama, for once, but then Harry goes and gets himself banned from Quidditch by Umbridge after he and the twins get into a fight with the Slytherin team and, well… Hermione is beside herself.

 

Umbridge’s focus on Harry is supremely inconvenient in so many ways,  _ except _ concerning Dumbledore’s Army. It’s as though he’s made it his mission to fight Umbridge, rather than Voldemort, and so she finds herself focusing on the illicit student group even more as well. 

 

Unfortunately, this also means that her already precious free time becomes even more precious and practically non-existent. She certainly doesn’t have any time to slip into the dungeons and while Severus isn’t particularly kind in class, he also doesn’t seem to be specifically targeting her, either.

 

November slips through the cracks and before they know it, it’s December and the last DA meeting before term breaks for the holidays. Afterwards, Harry reports to Hermione and Ron about his chat with Cho and their subsequent kiss. 

 

_ “Wet”? Gross; I don’t think they were doing it right. I can’t imagine Severus’s kisses would be wet.  _ Hermione blinks, tuning out Harry and Ron’s conversation.  _ And I’ve actually gone there, have I? Well done, Hermione. You’re actually crushing on your professor, who just happens to be your soul mate. What a mess. _

 

With a shake of her head, Hermione turns her attention back to the boys. After a while longer, she ushers them off to bed, heading up herself once she’s sure they are upstairs.

 

The next morning, Hermione makes her way downstairs for breakfast. After loading up a plate with a waffle and whip cream and strawberries, she glances around the table with a frown. There is a distinct lack of Weasleys in the vicinity. Also missing is a certain green-eyed wizard.  _ What’s happening? They wouldn’t have all left without a note or anything. Something must have happened. _

 

She turns in her seat slightly to direct her gaze up at the head table. Umbridge is in her seat, directing a particularly foul look in Dumbledore’s direction. The headmaster was apparently oblivious as he continued to eat and chat with Professor McGonagall on his right. His expression is quite serious, as is McGonagall’s, confirming in her mind that something serious must have happened, most likely at the Burrow.

 

Stabbing a strawberry slice with her fork, she scoops it in the pile of whip cream before shoving it in her mouth. Chewing, she allows her eyes to drift to the far left of the head table - right to Severus, who is watching her closely, his own fork hanging suspended over his plate. She tilts her head slightly, watching him curiously as his eyes narrow in her direction. With a hum, she turns back to her plate and licks a dab of whip cream from her finger before she stands from the table. 

 

Scooping up her bag, she glances over her shoulder towards the head table again. Dumbledore nods in her direction, face still serious, while Minerva has already left the table at some point during her exchange with Snape. At the thought, she glances down at him and bites down on her lip as she spots him scowling at her. Hermione laughs a little before she slips out of the Great Hall and heads to Transfiguration.

 

Simultaneously relieving and worrying her further, Professor McGonagall pulls Hermione aside as soon as she’s inside the classroom to explain the situation. Mr Weasley had been attacked, Harry had seen it in his  _ dreams _ , and the whole family had slipped out the previous night as soon as possible to prevent detection. She would be joining them as soon as term ended, and to do her best not to show any reaction, especially around Umbridge or if questioned.

 

So for the next two days, Hermione bites her cheek and pushes through the last of classes before term officially ends for the holidays. She packs her trunk, and heads down to the common room.

 

After chivvying along the stragglers, Hermione taps her trunk with her wand to lighten it and carries it out into the hall. She almost reaches the final flight of stairs to the ground floor when a large hand wraps around her arm and tugs her into an alcove, surprising a startled  _ yip! _ from her.

 

“Shh.” His voice is soft and a bare hiss of air, but it’s enough for her head to tilt back and stare up at him with wide eyes. In the shadows, she can barely make out his face, barely a pale oval in the gloom.

 

Hermione licks her lips before opening her mouth to say something. Severus’s hand snaps up, fingers pressing across her lips to keep her silent. She can feel her eyes widening even further at the feeling of his bare fingers, cool skin with the light calluses of an academic, touching her lips. The contact generates a low tingle under her skin, surfacing on her lips and spreading with every heartbeat that it continues.

 

After a moment, he turns back to look down at her, his voice pitched low and rumbling deep in his chest. “You’ll be staying behind from the train and I will deliver you to the headmaster’s office, whence you’ll take the floo to 12 Grimmauld.”

 

She nods slowly, staring at him in awed shock as the motions rubs her pert nose along one of his fingers, her lips brushing his skin. He jumps as though shocked, pulling back as far as the tiny alcove will allow. Hermione clears her throat and nods. “Yes, sir. Should I wait here, or…?”

 

Severus hesitates momentarily then reaches out with his wand, tapping her on the head. The cold egg feeling of the disillusionment charm is forgotten under the roaring burn that floods through her entire body. 

 

If she had thought before that the feeling of his magic  _ filtering _ into her body through the door was intense, it’s nothing compared to it being used directly  _ on _ her. She can’t hold in the soft cry that escapes her as her knees fold out from under her. Hands flying out for support, she  _ moans _ as the magic coalesces as a throbbing living ball of  _ want _ between her thighs.

 

Severus gasps in surprise, reaching out and grabbing the invisible Hermione as she begins to fall, stopping her from tumbling to the stone floor. His arms wrap around her snuggly as her hands wrap around his wrist. He grunts, jerking in surprise as the touch of her skin on his sends shards of pleasure through his nerves. She sinks against his chest, gasping in the cool air and trembling.

 

They stand together, clinging to one another as their bodies settle from the reaction before he tilts his head down and whispers harshly. “What was  _ that _ ?”

 

Hermione shakes her head slowly, just barely resisting the urge to press and rub her face against the soft cloth of his robes and purr like a bushy-haired cat. “I don’t know. It must be the bond.” She groans, letting her head droop fully against his chest. “There needs to be  _ more _ information about this!”

 

Severus can’t stop the amused snort that slips out. “Yes, Morgana curse the lack of books on a relatively rare natural occurrence.”

 

She straightens up, huffing at him with a glare. “You have to admit that it would make things much easier if we could know what to expect!” Clenching her thighs together, she winces at the sticky feeling of her knickers, a blush spreading across her face.  _ Thank goodness for the disillusionment charm! _

 

Severus is quiet, and she takes that as his agreement, and that’s when she notices that she’s still wrapped in his arms, long and leanly muscled, holding her firmly to his front. The blush spreads as the pulse between her legs throbs in realization and she struggles with the urge to press closer. 

 

He must realize their position at the same time when she feels his body stiffen, his voice tight. “Can you stand on your own now?”   
  


“Ah, yes, I think so.” She swallows, stepping back from him reluctantly, pouting at the loss of his warmth. “I’m sorry about that, I wasn’t expecting that kind of… reaction.”

 

“What did it feel like?” His voice is pitched so low again it makes her thighs clench.

 

“It was… it felt really good.” She winces at the vast understatement before clearing her throat. “Shall we go? I wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting.”

 

Severus nods shortly, before slipping out of the alcove. “Come along.” He grabs her trunk and pulls it along to the headmaster’s office as she keeps up along beside him.

 

.oOo.

 

Later that night, after Hermione arrives at Grimmauld Place and Molly has stress-fed everyone within reach, the four of them gather in Hermione and Ginny’s room, the boys perched on one bed and the girls on the other. Ron and Harry are huffing about Umbridge and Quidditch, scowling over Harry’s ban, while Hermione and Ginny chat together about Mr. Weasley and using transfiguration with beauty charms (separately, of course).

 

After a lull in conversation, Harry exchanges a glance with Ron then turns to Hermione, clearing his throat. “So, everything going alright, then, Hermione?”

 

She looks up, arching her brows. “Hmm? Sure, yeah; why, Harry?”

 

He shifts, looking uncomfortable. “Well, we just… wanted to check. Since your stay in the infirmary - I dunno - you’ve been a little… off. I, we just want to make sure you’re doing alright.” 

 

Hermione frowns, glancing at Ginny who just shrugs in response, before she turns back to the boys. “Well, thanks, I think?” She laughs a little, briefly, and runs one hand through her hair, before frowning again.  _ I wish I could tell them… _

 

Ron clears his throat, shrugging. “Well, think you could tell us  _ why _ you were in the infirmary to begin with?”

 

“Ron!” Ginny protests, throwing her arms wide as if to say “ _ what did I tell you? _ ”

 

Hermione pats one of the redhead girl’s wide-flung arms, smiling a little. “It’s ok, Ginny. And actually, I  _ can _ tell you that. I came into my magical maturation, and it was a little… violent. I passed out in the shower that morning, and Lavender and Parvati found me.” She sighs, lacing her fingers together. “I hit my head when I fell, which is why Madam Pomfrey kept me overnight.” 

 

Harry leans forward, frowning at her. “Oh, Hermione. Why didn’t you say? You  _ are  _ all ok now, right?”

 

“Yes, Harry.” Hermione laughs softly and nods at him, smiling a bit more, relaxing with them.

 

Ron tilts his head, eyeing her closely with a thoughtful look on his face. “You can tell us  _ that _ … but there’s something else you can’t tell us?”

 

Hermione freezes, turning wide brown eyes to Ron slowly, her mouth opening as though to disagreeing… but the words are frozen on her tongue.

 

There’s a long moment of silence before Harry leaps to his feet, scowling. “Hermione? What else is there?!”

 

She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she scowls back at Harry. “No. It is absolutely nothing to do with you, and none of your business. So no, there is nothing else that you need to know.”

 

Harry opens his mouth to shout, but stops when Ron grabs his arm and tugs him back down to the bed. “Harry, mate, ease up. It’s Hermione… if she’s not telling us something, it’s for a good reason.” His bright blue eyes glance over to Hermione who frowns, but nods reluctantly, arms squeezing tighter. “See? It’s fine, mate. She’ll tell us whenever she can.”

 

Harry plops down with ill grace, a small scowl still on his face.

 

Ginny snorts, rolling her eyes, before speaking up. “So, how about that Umbridge? Isn’t she a right twat?”

  
Ron’s indignant “Ginny!” is covered up with the sounds of the other three’s laughter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALERT: THIS IS THE SECOND CHAPTER POSTED TODAY! 
> 
> I messed up and forgot to post Chapter 8 before, so make sure you read it first! :D

CHAPTER NINE

 

The Christmas visit to St Mungo’s is depressing; Hermione has never cared for being in a hospital, and visiting with Mr Weasley is bad enough, but then running into poor Neville makes her heart break.

 

Seeing Lockhart leaves her ridiculously embarrassed, though with a little laugh to herself, she finally admits that her new interest is  _ much better _ , no matter what anyone else may think.

 

It’s another two weeks before she sees him again, and then, it’s while she’s standing in the library of Grimmauld Place, one book tucked under her arm as she surveys another, idly flipping through the pages.

 

“I should have known you would be found in here.”

 

She lets out a short scream, jumping and dropping both books to the floor. “Mother of God!” She whirls around, eyes widening before narrowing at Severus Snape, standing rather close to her with a smirk on his lips, his expression extremely amused.

 

Hermione can’t stop staring at him, panting rather heavily.

 

“I didn’t take you for a religious person, Miss Granger.”

 

“I’m not particularly religious, no, but you startled me rather badly!” She lets out a little laugh, pressing her hand to her chest. “And it’s Hermione, remember?”

 

“Ah, but only in my sitting room, as agreed. There is no telling when those dunderheads will come  _ blundering _ into any given room.” His voice is dry, scathing, though his face still betrays his amusement as he continues to watch her.

 

Hermione wrinkles her nose at him. “Be kind.” She stickers her tongue out at him when he snorts, before laughing at his look of mild annoyance. “Why are you here now?”

 

Instead of answering her, Snape leans down, swooping up the two books that she dropped. Glancing over them, long fingers flipping through the pages idly before passing them to her. She takes them with a smile, purposefully trailing her fingers along his in the exchange, while watching him from under her eyelashes. “Thank you, sir.”

 

Severus blinks, looking down at her for a long moment before replying. “You’re welcome.” He pauses for another long moment, and just as she thinks about saying something else, he continues. “And Dumbledore requested my…  _ cooperation _ with a small project concerning  _ Potter _ .” He sneers at that, dark eyes glittering as he looks away from her for the first time since entering in the room.

 

Hermione lets out a soft  _ oh _ , her eyes searching his face as the amusement fades. She hesitates, then reaches out quickly, slipping her fingers through the curl of his to hold his hand. 

 

He jerks in surprise, his dark eyes snapping to hers, though he doesn’t pull his hand away from her. Instead, after a brief moment, his fingers tighten slightly, cupping her hand in his. 

 

“I’m sure it will be difficult, but not the worst thing you’ve had to do.” She smiles up at him, her head tilting back to see his face better.

 

Severus pauses then lets out a sigh, glancing down at their interlocked hands. “May I…?” He moves his hand slightly and she bites down on her lip, loosening her fingers so that he can easily pull away. His brows arch and that amused expression flickers over his face, just before he turns his hand and suddenly pulls her into the circle of his arms.

 

Hermione gasps in surprise, before wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest. She reaches over and drops the books onto a nearby shelf before hugging him back tightly. A deep breath floods her senses with his clean sandalwood scent, and she sighs as he tightens her arms and holds her close. 

 

It’s a long moment before he speaks, his voice low and quiet and hesitant. “I find… that your presence calms me.”

 

She smiles against his chest, resting her head against his coat. “I know the feeling.”

 

They stand that way, quiet and relaxed, for a long moment, before suddenly, something clicks and her head pops up from his chest to look at him in surprise. “I can’t hear it anymore!”

 

Severus jerks his head back when she moves so suddenly, glaring down at her through narrowed eyes. “Hear  _ what _ ?”

 

She grins quickly as the thought flashes through her mind -  _ if he were a cat, he’d be hissing _ . - before she replies, a bit testily herself. “The  _ heartbeat. _ ”

 

His brows twitch as he looks back at her, the glare fading into thoughtfulness. “Some of the sources stated that the… symptoms tend to change once the bond has been acknowledged. Perhaps that is why.” His dark eyes trail off to the side, apparently deep in thought and unaware of her reaction to his words.

 

_ He’s accepted the bond!  _ Hermione swallows down the shout of joy, though she can’t help squeezing him tightly and drawing in another deep lungful of his scent, mumbling into the wool of his coat. “I love sandalwood, it smells so good.”

 

The sound of his low chuckle reverberates through his chest, rumbling against her face and making her smile widely. She tilts her head up and smiles up at him. He merely looks down at her, dark eyes glittering in the firelight. 

 

Just as she leans deeper into him, the thunder of feet followed by the library door being flung over and bouncing off of the wall has Severus stepping away quickly, practically melting into the shadows. Hermione wobbles as her support disappears so suddenly, her mouth open in surprise before she huffs at the saturnine man. 

 

The bushy haired witch turns and glowers at the group who troops into the library, talking loudly and laughing. The twins claim a couch, sitting together and muttering to one another, while the rest - Harry and Ron, who carries his chess set, and Ginny with a stack of magazines in hand - all claim the other cushioned chairs and a pillow for the floor. The other two library occupants are completely unnoticed by the group.

 

Just as she opens her mouth to scold them, a creak on the wood behind her betrays Severus’s movement. Of course, the others don’t hear it, occupied with their own pursuits, nor do they see as he passes Hermione, his fingertips brushing against her palm as he passes by her.

 

She bites her lip, watching him walk towards the gathering, before grabbing her books and following after him.

 

“Your presence has been…  _ requested _ by the headmaster in the kitchen, Potter. Come along.” Severus snarls, ignoring the stormclouds that sweep across Harry’s face at his words. The potions master turns on his heel and stalks from the room without acknowledging the others; he only spares a brief final glance in Hermione’s direction. 

 

She watches him go, her lips quirking slightly at one corner, before looking back towards the others, her brows arching as she notes Harry still sitting in his seat. “Harry?” His green eyes snap in her direction, narrowing as though angry, before he blinks in surprise. “You better go if the headmaster is waiting for you, Harry.”

 

The dark haired boy nods before glancing at Ron. “Sorry, mate, we’ll play a game later.” He stands, shuffling from the library and presumably heading towards the kitchen.

 

Hermione walks over and settles down into the chair at the desk she claimed for hers ages ago before letting out a heavy sigh.  _ I have a feeling that this is not going to go well. _

 

.oOo.

 

She’s right, eventually.

 

When Harry first explains about the occlumency lessons with Snape, Hermione’s first reaction is jealousy. The first part being  _ why can’t I have occlumency lessons too? _ And then the second -  _ He’ll be spending all that time with Severus! _

 

After shaking off the feeling, Hermione tries to reason with Harry, explain to him how important these lessons must be if the headmaster is insisting on them, and that he should treat Severus -  _ “Professor Snape, Harry!” _ \- with respect, as well.

 

She knows that it’s not going to help, there is _too_ _much_ there, but she can only hope. 

 

Once they get back to Hogwarts, time moves quickly. Between classes, Dumbledore’s Army meetings, avoiding Umbridge, the occasional squeezed in time with Severus, keeping Harry and Ron on time for their homework, and especially nagging Harry to practice his occlumency… well, time is short.

 

Umbridge begins to turn up everywhere, little clipboard always in hand as she makes notes about who knows what. Hermione feels the bile burning in her stomach at the mere sight of the toady woman, and it’s a struggle for her to keep her lip from curling in a rather Snape-ish way, and she’s all together sure she fails at least occasionally.

  
By the end of January, with Harry’s bad date with Cho passed and his interview in the Quibbler spreading like wildfire, Hermione is ready for a break. Unfortunately, that break doesn’t come for quite some time.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am, once again, the worst. So you lovely readers are getting a double shot today! Don't forget to read both chapters! :)

CHAPTER TEN

 

The next few months pass quickly, filled with drama and Hermione’s growing worry about Harry. Ron reports that he’s still having nightmares, and she’s almost worried enough to contemplate asking Severus for some help - though once Trelawney is sacked and Firenze comes in as the new divinations professor, amongst all the other excitement, she continues to encourage Harry to practice his occlumency.

 

The night in early April after Dumbledore himself is sacked, Hermione finds herself curled up in what has become her spot on Severus’s couch, cup of tea cradled in her hand as she sips at it occasionally, eyes heavily lidded.

 

Severus is in his chair, cup of tea untouched and resting against his thigh, long fingers cradling the warmed through porcelain. 

 

Earlier in the day Umbridge had declared herself headmistress, despite the office sealing itself against her, and Severus had been forced to provide her with a vial of veritaserum. He had confided in Hermione when she showed up that it had just been flat gillywater. She hadn’t been able to hold in her laughter at his machinations, which made him give her that particular almost smile that she was beginning to look forward to during their time together. It had almost gotten her back to the pleasant mental place she’d been before the Room of Requirement had been invaded.

 

Finally, later that evening, they are settled in their spots, with a proper tea and biscuits. Her eyes are heavy - sleep had been short lately with everything going on - and after a while, the comfortable silence is too much to resist. Settling the teacup on the floor and shifting further into the couch, she pillows her head on the arm of the couch and drifts off rather quickly, her awareness providing the last bit of scent - the tea, and fire, and the underlying sandalwood scent she always associates as  _ Severus _ .

 

.oOo.

 

Finally pulling his thoughts from the day, Severus turns his head to look over at Hermione, before blinking slowly in surprise at her sleeping figure. She’s stretched out along the length of the couch, her dainty, socked feet hanging off of the edge and shoes abandoned on the floor. He tilts his head, turning in his chair slightly to watch her sleep.

 

A curly chunk of hair still clings, barnacle-like, to the arm where she had rested her head before sliding down onto the flat cushions; one arm tucked under her now, while the other is thrown above her head, wedged into the corner of the couch at an awkward, propped-up angle.

 

His lips quirk as she huffs, her head turning towards him -  _ she’s sleeping, it’s just random movement _ \- before she draws in a deep breath and it escapes as a sigh, a little smile curling her lips for just a moment as she sleeps on.

 

Severus lets out a sigh of his own, much more pensive and full of worries than Hermione’s, as he settles back into his chair, dark eyes still on her recumbent form. He will let her sleep under his watchful eye for a little longer; she surely needs it.

 

.oOo.

 

The next morning, Hermione hurries down to breakfast, running a bit late. She had woken earlier in the morning, only to be assaulted by the memory of the previous night. She had fallen asleep on his couch, and some time later, he had woken her with a bland expression on his face. 

 

But then she had smiled up at him, still half-asleep, and his face had  _ softened _ , the lines at his eyes and lips not so deep and harsh. He had then helped her to her feet and escorted her to his door.

 

Hermione was sure that the redness on her cheeks lasted all the way back to Gryffindor tower previous night, and upon waking and  _ remembering _ , she was worried the look might become permanent.

 

Because when he had woken her the night before, her first immediate reaction had been a rather indistinct rush of warmth, a tightening in her chest and between her legs, and a hazy  _ my darling _ had drifted across the front of her consciousness. 

 

She had smiled at him, not as a friend would another friend, but as a lover to her beloved, and he had  _ reacted _ , he had softened and for the first time, she felt truly and hopelessly lost in him.

 

Getting through breakfast while in the same room, even as large as the Great Hall is, as Severus made it exceedingly difficult for Hermione to concentrate. Her eyes would continuously drift in his direction and she had difficulty concentrating on Harry and Ron’s conversation, much less anyone else’s. Ginny asked Hermione for the currant jam at least three times before getting a response.

 

Of course, by the end of the lunch period, almost all of the extra thoughts were driven from her head - and surely most of the school’s collective heads - by the appearance of the Wildfire Whiz-Bang’s throughout the school. The entire day was spent not-so-secretly enjoying the show and applauding the Weasley twins for the endeavours. Quite a good piece of magic, indeed. 

 

Once, during the day, Hermione found herself walking past Severus in the hall just as one of the swear writing sparklers floated past. A trio of second year Ravenclaw students were ahead of her giggling over the swear - no one behind - and she couldn’t help the smile that erupted across her face when he met her eyes, the dark tunnels of his eyes lightening and his lips quirking in the briefest of almost smiles, only for her to see.

 

While they had no time to meet for a few days, Hermione is already looking forward to their tea the day after next. They just had to make it through another occlumency lesson with Harry.

 

.oOo.

 

Harry, as usual, manages to ruin it all by sticking his speccy git nose in where it isn’t supposed to be.

 

After he comes rushing back into the common room later that night, pale and twitchy, and far earlier than he should have been back, with mumbled excuses about his occlumency “abilities”, Hermione quickly - and far too easily, as he is as eager to escape as she is - convinces Harry to go to bed early before slipping out of the common room with her own mumbled excuses about visiting the library  _ just real quickly _ , despite the growing proximity to curfew.

 

As soon as the door shuts behind her and she’s clear of any living eyes, she takes off like a shot, the enforced bottoms of her slippers tapping on the stones as she slips through the corridors and halls, winding her way down to the dungeons until she finally stops, breathless and panting, in front of his door. 

 

Hermione stands there for a too long moment, almost daring someone to come across her standing in front of the door to Snape’s personal quarters as she tries to catch her breath. Finally, she knocks.

 

There’s no answer, but just as she raises her hand to knock again, the door unlatches and ever so slowly swings open just an inch. 

 

She lets out a shuddering breath as she pushes it open wide enough to slip into the room, before firmly pushing the door closed behind her. Turning slowly, she peers around the dim sitting room. The fire is mostly banked, the room a bit cooler than she is used to, with only a few candles in one candelabra off to the side burning. It takes her only another moment to spot him, his figure sitting back into the shadows of his chair. “Severus?”

 

There’s the softest sigh of cloth rubbing against cloth as he shifts in the chair, his head turning towards her, though he doesn’t answer. Hermione frowns, stepping around the couch - her spot - and closer to him. “Please answer me.”

 

There is a heartbeat, and she’s afraid he will refuse her -  _ and then where will I be? _ \- but he finally opens his mouth. “Why are you here?” His voice is low, stark and cold, bare of any of the warmth she’s become accustomed to in their time together.

 

“Because Harry came back to the tower looking as though Death had been chasing him the whole way from the dungeons. I put him to bed and came down as quickly as I could.”

 

Severus sneers at her as he settles back into his chair, dark eyes flickering down her form. She has forgotten that, in her haste, she hadn’t changed and is wearing her pajamas: flannel pajama pants - in a tasteful red, black and white tartan pattern, thank goodness for small mercies - and a grey sweater wrap over her white vest. Her slippers are a woven cardigan in a darker grey than her sweater, with soft fuzzy insides. While still her in pajamas, she’s certainly looked worse.

 

“ _ You _ had to put darling Potter to bed; but of course you did. Did you  _ suggest _ he go snooping, as well? See what tidbits the two of you could learn, maybe see what could be useful to you, hm?” 

 

Hermione’s eyes widen as her mouth pops open. “He did  _ what _ ?!”

 

Dark eyes narrowing, Severus scowls at her fiercely. “Don’t pretend; even  _ if _ the boy was acting on his own, I’m sure he told you everything he saw, so why play otherwise? Go back to your tower, Miss Granger.”

 

“Excuse me?” Hermione huffs as she plants her fists on her hips. “First of all,  _ Severus _ , it’s Hermione in these rooms. We agreed.” She ignores his darkening expression as she glares back. “Secondly, Harry  _ bloody _ Potter didn’t tell me a single thing about what happened tonight, other than that you had dismissed him because he had learnt as much as he could, which I knew was  _ bollocks _ , because Ron told me he is still talking in his sleep, so he’s lying about it. But all of that aside, how  _ dare _ you accuse me of using Harry to learn  _ your _ secrets!” 

 

She drags in a hard breath, panting almost as hard as when she’d first arrived at his door, after her run through the castle. She steps back, shaking her head as she glares at him, ignoring the tears prickling in the corner of her eyes. “You are a right bastard, Severus Snape. I’ve tried very hard to push past your outer shell, to get to know you without being completely intrusive and deal with this, this situation… it isn’t ideal, we both know that. But to accuse me of using someone else, of using my best friend to learn your secrets? Things you aren’t comfortable  _ telling _ me yet? That’s… low. It’s low, even for you!”

 

Severus surges to his feet, fingers tightening into fists as he snarls at her.

 

“How dare you come into _my_ quarters, acting as though you have some control over me! You, _Miss Granger_ , are not the one in charge here; you do not get to nag and needle at me like you do those _other_ _morons_. While our circumstances are indeed _complicated_ -” he spits it out, as though disgusted by the mere thought “- it does not change who we are nor how we are perceived.”

 

By the end of his speech, what anger he has managed to summon at her brashness is drained away and he finishes it with a shuddering breath.

 

Hermione stares at him hard, tea colored eyes searching his sallow face as he stands in front of her, arms hanging limply by his sides, every muscle in his body screaming out in dejection. She moves, then, reaching out and grabbing his hand. He jerks back in an attempt to pull away, but she only tightens her hold and adds her other hand as well for good measure, spreading the skin on skin contact until her fingers have slipped under the cuffs of his coat to lay flat against his wrist. His heartbeat thuds beneath the pads of her fingers and she finds herself breathing in half-time to it.

 

Her own anger fades away as she looks up at him, and he at her, until she finally speaks, her brows knitting together. “What happened?”

 

Severus sighs deeply, his eyes drooping then closing as he finally allows her to hold his hand, the warmth from her skin seeping into his and warming him even to the tips of his toes, rather in spite of his brief struggle to pull away from her. He’s quiet for a long time, and she’s almost afraid he won’t reply at all, when finally - “Potter stuck his nose in where it doesn’t belong. I had pulled… certain memories and stored them in my pensieve, just to be safe, but was called away unexpectedly. He snooped and discovered them, and watched… I don’t know how many, but enough.” He sighs again, his free hand raising to his face to pinch his nose as though warding off or attempting to alleviate a headache. “I’m going to guess he didn’t see any of those with you, or I don’t believe he would have been able to refrain from saying something to at least one of us.”

 

“You put memories of me in your pensieve?” She seals her lips together as soon as the words blurt from her mouth, the blush creeping across her face despite her best efforts.

 

Severus’s eyes crack open as he peers down at her, his soft reply hanging in the air between them. “Yes.”

 

Hermione bites down on her lower lip, her eyes shifting to meet his and, despite the seriousness of the situation, she smiles at the internal surge, a  _ zing _ that always seems to accompany their staring matches. As she watches, his eyes soften before they become determined.

 

Her tongue flickers over her dry lips, as he steps closer. His voice is low and his fingers are already tensing under hers again as he speaks. “We should sit and have tea. We should… clear the air.”

  
Nodding in agreement, she edges over to her spot on the couch, though when she refuses to release his hand, he’s forced to either break the contact or move and sit alongside her. With unnerving ease, Severus sinks onto the couch beside her and as they settle, he summons the usual tea service.

 

Finally, Hermione reluctantly releases him to prepare their cups as she’s taken to doing during their meetings, though she keeps close, almost leaning against his leg as she kneels at the table to pour, though he never protests the contact. 

  
Severus accepts his cup with his expressionless mask settled firmly into place. Once she’s back on the couch beside him, tea in hand, he lets out a long breath and glances over to her from the corner of his eye. “I should tell you about Lily Evans.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm the worst author ever, you all get a double chapter update! Don't forget to go back and read chapter ten BEFORE this chapter! :)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

_ Once she’s back on the couch beside him, tea in hand, he lets out a long breath and glances over to her from the corner of his eye. “I should tell you about Lily Evans.” _

 

Hermione’s eyes widen as she watches Severus, her fingers tighten around her mug. “Lily Evans?”

 

Severus nods slowly, his inky, lank hair swaying with the movement. “Likely better known to you as Lily Potter.”

 

If possible, her eyes widen even more, her pink lips forming a small circle as she lets out a quiet  _ ohh.  _ She lets out a breath, hard, staring up at him with wide tea colored eyes, expectant and something else that he can’t quite pinpoint. “Were you… were you friends with her?” 

 

Severus grimaces, motioning with one hand in a vague sort of way. “Yes. Sort of. Lily  _ Evans _ and I were friends; we grew up only streets apart from one another.” He sighs then, raking his hand through his hair and ignoring the lank strands as they fall right back into position. His eyes trail off towards the dark walls, a frown tugging at his thin lips. “We were friends when we were young, before Hogwarts. And even for a while after. Then she got involved with the…  _ Marauders _ .” The venom is palpable, dripping from his words as she sits quietly, letting him spill his own truths.

 

“I see.” Hermione frowns, tilting her head as she watches Severus struggle to bring his temper down. In these rooms seems to be the only place he allows his iron control to relax, and even then, he still maintains most of it whenever she’s around. Of course, she doesn’t know what he does when she’s  _ not _ around. 

 

A hot flash under her collar, accompanied by a strong mental image of some of the  _ things _ he may do when she’s not around causes her to look down at her lap quickly, teeth sinking into her lip as she’s briefly sidetracked by her own traitorous brain before she wrenches her attention back to Severus as he begins to speak again.

 

“No, you really don’t; you think you do, but the whole story is…” He sighs, leaning forward in his chair, abandoning his tea cup on the side table. She can almost hear the sound of his molars grinding from beside him. “It was, it is  _ complicated _ .” He rolls his eyes at that. “We were friends, best of friends, for a few years before and after our first year at Hogwarts. She was… beautiful, and sweet; a shining beacon of what I  _ could not _ have.” 

 

Severus’s eyes flicker over to her, the blank expression that Hermione hates so much - that other persona, his mask - still firmly in place. “And one day, I was pushed too far, and I snapped. I called her something… despicable, and she left. Not before much longer, she and Potter Senior were together, and I was cut out completely. I turned to my house, and they provided.” He rubs his thumb against his chin, eyes focused on her, watching her closely. “I fancied myself in love with her then, and for… many, many years.”

 

Hermione can’t help the widening of her eyes as she watches him, the hard swoop of her gut at his words rather like the feeling when you miss a step going down the stairs. She swallows, squirming in the seat as she bites down on her cheek. “Oh. Did you lie then, before? When you said that there was no one at the moment?”

 

“No.” His voice is low, intense, and she nods in response as she looks away.

 

Severus remains sitting quietly, dark eyes locked on her, watching her face as she processes the information. He doesn’t move when she reaches out and sets her tea cup down on the table, nor when she stands with a tremulous smile pasted on her face, nor when she announces that she should get back since it’s surely after curfew by now, and especially since Harry is so worked up at the moment and who knows what could be happening in the tower. For those moments, he can only watch her increasingly flustered movements with furrowed brows.

 

When she whirls around to leave, wrapping her arms around her chest, he finally moves, one hand reaching towards her as he stands. “Hermione, wait.”

 

She stumbles to a stop, freezing in place, before turning her head towards Severus, just enough that he knows she is listening, if a bit reluctantly.

 

“I…” He grits his teeth, fingers curling and twisting, tightening into fists. “I don’t mean to hurt you with this knowledge. I felt… I thought you should know, that you  _ deserved _ to know.”

 

Hermione bites down on her lower lip, nodding at his words as she turns her head back away from him in order to keep him from seeing the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She should have  _ known… _

 

His deep voice, black velvet under a night sky, cuts through her thoughts. “But you should also know; I may have given her a piece of my heart once, many years ago, or thought I had, but you…” He hesitates before forcibly pushing the words from his mouth. “You have half of my  _ soul _ and that is unchangeable.”

 

Sharing his feelings is painful, rather like taking a crucio directly to the gut, which he can actually describe in excruciatingly accurate detail. 

 

But watching her walk out of the room, tears in her eyes and believing that he cannot feel  _ more _ for  _ her _ because of  _ his _ past, creates that same sensation, multiplied a thousand times over, directly over his heart. He wants her to know, though as difficult as sharing his emotions with her -  _ with anyone _ \- may be, but she deserves every effort.

 

When she looks back at Severus, her pink lips parted wide in surprise and brown eyes brightly shining with unshed tears, he can’t stop himself from reaching towards her, one foot moving in front of the other as he takes one step closer.

 

As though his movement has broken some kind of petrification spell on her feet, Hermione lets out a soft sound that is suspiciously like a sob before she throws herself at him, arms winding around his neck and burying her face in his chest. Steadying himself after he rocks back on his heels from the force of her impact, he circles his arms around her and pulls her tight against his front, holding her firmly.

 

After a few minutes of breathing his scent deep into her lungs, Hermione surreptitiously wipes the wetness from her face before pulling her head back to look up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

 

Her words are quickly cut off when Severus’s lips cover hers and she gasps a little in shock, eyes huge in her face. They’re soft and a little cool, and as soon as her brain registers these facts, it then proceeds to  _ melt down _ . Every nerve is screaming at her to be  _ closer _ . She presses closer to him in an effort to alleviate the feeling, and it only makes it worse. 

 

The blood pumps through her body, harder and faster and hotter and louder. When her fingers find the soft lengths of his hair, she whimpers aloud against his mouth. When his fingers stroke along her spine and curl around her hip, he struggles to muffle his groan. Their bond is burning hot and fierce between them, and only the practically indestructible part of his will, the metaphorical angel on his shoulder practically screaming in his ear, keeps him from stripping her down to only her knickers and keeping her in his bed for the next week - or two - right then and there.

 

Their mouths part and meet again and then again, lips swelling and flushing red, before Hermione draws in a shuddering breath and opens her eyes to peer up at him hazily. He looks fairly ridiculous, his dark hair mussed from her wandering hands, lips red and puffy… though she’s sure she doesn’t look much better, judging from the slightest of smug expressions on his face.

 

Hermione’s fingers flex, short nails scratching against the base of his neck, and a grin explodes across her face when Severus groans softly, dark lashes fluttering, before quickly scowling down at her. 

 

“Don’t. Just… shh. Don’t ruin it.” Her grin widens when his scowl only redoubles at her  _ shushing _ him, dark brows drawing together. Just as he starts to open his mouth, she surges up onto her toes and presses her mouth to his again. She moans when his large hands clamp down on her hips and drag her close again, and then another escapes when she can feel his erection even through his coat.

 

Severus shudders when she stretches and melts against him, pressing even closer to him as though they can push past the clothing separating them. Her fingers scramble against his neck and bury deeper in his hair, against his scalp, as he finds his own hands sliding beneath her sweater and vest to stroke her sides, skin soft and warm against his palms like flesh-warmed cashmere.

 

As soon as his hands touch her sides, Hermione lets out a low groan, her hips rubbing against his thigh. His much taller height prevents her from grinding against his erection properly, though it doesn’t stop her from trying her very best anyway. The hard, long feeling of him against her lower stomach creates a burning warmth in her groin, and a voice in the back of her head is crying at her to  _ just climb up him and take him into you! _

 

She jerks her head back with a gasp, staring up at his dilated gaze as they both pant hard for air. Her hands are twisted in his hair, his still under her shirt and resting against her ribs and just within reach of her bare breasts. Every heave of her chest rubs his hands against her skin, heightening her awareness of his touch even higher. 

 

Severus begins to withdraw and her hands tighten around his neck, pulling him against her again with an actual whine coming from her lips. “No, don’t…”

 

He shakes his head slowly, although at the same time, seemingly by accident, he strokes the soft pads of his fingers along the subtle curve of her left breast before finally, gently pulling his hands away. “We should.”

 

Hermione pouts at him, watching him with eyes darkened by lust to a burnished gold. The flash of her hard nipples, pressing against her vest as she adjusts her sweater, causes him to forget himself for just a moment and he lick his lips, dark gaze fastened to her chest before dragging them back up to her face. The smug grin on her face makes him scowl in response, though the force of it isn’t nearly as intimidating as he might otherwise conjure up.

 

“Should I escort you back to the tower?” He looks down at her, eyes glimmering in the dim light. His fingers twitch as though to reach out to her again, the bond between them thrumming even more insistently than usual, as though annoyed with being thwarted by their (mostly) mutual level-headedness. 

 

She finally huffs and bites down on her lower lip, looking up at him from under her lashes as she shakes her head slowly. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it would cause nothing but questions if we were seen walking in the halls together after curfew. Though you could always assign me detention, if need be.” She tilts her head, a mischievous look crossing her face as she peers up at him then. “Would you cast the disillusionment spell for me?”

 

Severus’s eyes narrow at her before he snorts softly at the memory of what happened the last time, in the alcove. “Are you sure you can handle that, my girl?” He smirks as her eyes widen at him, pupils dilating, and a shiver causing goose pimples to erupt across her body. He reaches out, stroking his fingertips along her jaw and watching her lean into his touch as she almost purrs in response.

 

“Of course I can.” Her lips move against his skin as she nuzzles against his hand. He pulls away, his own lips twitching as she pouts at him again. 

 

He chuckles softly and withdraws his wand, turning it and hovering it over her head. He pauses, one brow arching as he looks at her before tapping the tip against the top of her head.

 

As soon as the surge of magic strikes her still tingling nerves, she grabs his arm as she almost sinks to her knees in front of him with a low, deep moan. The touch of his magic overwhelms her as it pushes her overwrought body over the edge, her cunt clenching in a mild orgasm as she presses her face against his chest, moaning quietly with each pulse of his magic through her body.

 

Severus’s arms come up and gathers her invisible form, huffing at the brush of her frizzy hair against his neck. After a few moments, she carefully straightens and smooths her hands along his chest. “Thank you.”

 

His lips quirk as he looks in her direction, his eyes unnervingly meeting hers despite her invisibility. “You’re welcome, Hermione. Now, get back to the safety of your tower.” There’s a darkness to his eyes that causes an interested tingle down her spine, and she thinks that his words might not be strictly about the  _ other _ possibly dangerous aspects of the castle.

  
Hermione smiles, though he can’t see it, as she pats his chest one last time, fingers lingering against a button. “Goodnight, Severus.” She pulls away, reluctantly, and slips from his sitting room, leaving him behind, before hurrying through the cold halls back to her room.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hooray! A new chapter! :D Unfortunately, this is the last of my prewritten material! D: I've been picking at the next chapter, but it's far from finished. Hopefully, I'll be able to get it together over the next two weeks. Thanks ever so much to all of you lovely readers! :)

CHAPTER TWELVE

The rest of the year passes in a complete blur for the both of them. Harry almost being caught in Umbridge's office at the end of the month was only the tip of the iceberg. Followed in rapid succession by the twins' coup and an extremely impressive bit of work with the swamp, _Grawp_ of all bloody things, and then their OWLs, Hermione thought she couldn't handle yet another moment of nonstop action and the lack of contact between her and Snape only serves to ratchet her tension even higher. Poor Harry certainly struggles under the weight of her irritation during Charms revisions.

When Professor McGonagall is stunned by those beastly Aurors under Umbridge's orders, Hermione just _knows_ that will be the worst for the rest of the year.

The next day, during the History of Magic OWL, Harry collapses after his vision of Lord Voldemort and Sirius, proving her wrong unfortunately quickly.

The ensuing rush through breaking into Umbridge's office, the fight between them and the Inquisitorial Squad, Grawp _again_ , and the flight to the Department of Mysteries leaves Hermione a shaking, nervous mess.

Crouched in the Time Chamber, panting shallowly and clutching her wand in a sweaty hand, she glanced over her shoulder to check on Harry and Neville, each pale-faced and leaning against the wall, wands held out as they hear two Death Eaters moving through the room. It only took them a few moments to get within sight, and she gulped, preparing herself.

Moving quickly, Hermione slashed her wand as she silenced Dolohov and Harry shouted the full-body bind at Jugson. The flash of purple that came shortly after was followed by unpierceable pitch blackness.

.oOo.

When she opens her eyes sometime later, it is to the shadowy dimness of the infirmary. She draws in a deep breath, then grimaces sharply at the ache that stretches across her chest as the skin pulls and makes her aware of the dull throbbing pain under what feels like a gauze bandage and a loose cotton hospital gown.

Looking around carefully, she frowns at the empty corners of the room. There are only a few isolation rooms that she knows of, and being in one usually indicates a severe or unusual injury or illness. Hermione draws in another careful breath as the realization sinks in and she starts to push herself to her elbows with a low groan.

"I would not do that if I were you."

The sudden deep voice, tinged with something _different_ and new and not good, causes her to collapse back onto the bed again as her head twists to peer in his direction.

There he is, slouched in the chair stationed just by the closed door, dark clothing blending into the shadows. Hermione turns her shoulders a little more to see him better without twisting her neck so sharply, and as she does so, she can clearly begin to see the deep dark smudges under his eyes and the extra greasy lankness to his hair.

"Sev'rus…" When she speaks, she scowls at the slur, her tongue struggling to keep up with the words. "Wha' hap'ened? Whur…?"

Severus shifts in the chair, standing slowly, ever so carefully, in order to move closer to her. "You were struck by a severing curse, one of Dolohov's _personal_ creations. If he had not been _silenced_ and _distracted_ by a ragtag bunch of _children_ attacking grown _Death Eaters_ , he would have left you in _two pieces in that godforsaken room_!"

He is breathing heavily by the time he leans over her, his hands pressing down into the mattress on either side of her shoulders, fingers twisting in the sheets. Those thin lips are twisted into a snarl, teeth gritted together, but his eyes… his eyes are shining and bright, glazed with terror and pain and anger and bright relief all mixed, and Hermione can only stare up at him in awe.

He is also as unclothed as she's ever seen him, she realizes then, down to only his long sleeves and waistcoat and black pants.

"You were almost slaughtered, Hermione. You would have been _gone_ and how would you have kept everyone else alive _then_?" Severus glares down at her ferociously, more severely than in weeks, in actual _months_ past.

It's right then as the sluggish feeling in her brain clears just long enough for her to realize that his terror and pain and anger aren't necessarily directed _just_ at her - and it definitely was, at least in part; he was absolutely _furious_ with her - but also the entire situation they have all found themselves mired in. She raises her shaky hands and presses them against his chest, scowling again, this time at the sharp prickle of tears in her dry eyes as she whispers. "I'm so sorry. I _tried…_ "

A sob breaks through from her lips and Severus jerks as though shocked, the anger melting rather abruptly in the face of his overwhelming relief and exhaustion. He sinks to his knees, to the ground beside the bed as his hands slide beneath her. In an awkward half-roll, Hermione finds herself wrapped in his arms and the bed sheets, leaning far over the bed into his chest. Her hands slide up his chest and up until her arms curl around his neck, and she presses her face against his wrinkled collar, her forehead against his clammy neck as she struggles to subdue her emotions.

Breathing in deeply as one or two tears escape despite her best efforts, she frowns at the myriad of scents on his clothes - a range of potion ingredients, the tang of sweat, a faint whiff of something burnt, the earthy depth of black ink, freshly crushed leaves, and a worrying hint of blood, all drowning the faintest hints of his usual light sandalwood. The faint tremble in his arms further alerts her to something wrong.

Hermione draws back to peer into his face, frowning deeper at the bags under his eyes. "Severus? What happened to _you_?"

He lets out a deep breath before peering over at her, his arms loosening around her shoulders. "You've been unconscious for two days. Once the Order rescued you and your so-called _friends_ from the Ministry, those injured were brought here to the infirmary. I was tasked with your recovery, amongst my… _other_ duties." His dark eyes flick away from her face, a faint scowl tightening his features.

She reaches up slowly and gently lays her hand against his cheek, watching him with her hazy brown eyes, dark in the shadows and from pain. Severus looks back at her, watching her watch him before he sighs again. "Once I determined what curse was used on you, I also then knew by whom it had been cast, and I could then brew the appropriate potions. You've been in a proper healing sleep for the past ten hours. After the others had been taken care of, Dumbledore left me here, and I quote, to watch over you."

Hermione lets out a soft breath as she rubs her fingertips against his stubble, merely watching him as he speaks.

Silent for a long moment, Severus finally heaves himself to his feet with a grunt, and she grasps his sleeve in alarm. He freezes, looking down at her with a wild look in his eyes before he reaches out and adjusts her position on the bed to create a large space. With his usual easy grace, he slips into the bed beside her, fitting his slender frame into the space as he curls an arm under her neck and tugs the blankets up to her chin.

She curls up into him, resting her head on his linen-covered arm as one hand tucks in against his chest, fingers wriggling between the buttons.

"What are you doing?"

Their proximity causes his deep voice to throb in her ears and to elicit sparks of interest through her entire body, apparently even despite her bone-deep exhaustion. She peers up at him through her lashes with a sleepy quirk of a smile. "I just want to touch you; it helps…"

Severus's brows furrow as he peers down at her for a long moment before moving his free arm. Deft pale fingers make quick work of the waistcoat buttons before undoing some of the tiny white buttons along his shirt.

Hermione wriggles around a little to get into a more comfortable position against him, one knee tucked between his, and then, without asking for his permission, she tugs the shirt tails from his pants and slips her hand underneath to press against his cool skin of his lower back.

He tries to jerk away, but between the threat of losing her touch _and_ falling of the bed, he doesn't manage to move far and finally settles back into position quickly enough with only a small huff.

She smiles slowly against his sleeve, her eyes feeling heavier as each moment ticks by. Together, they curl into one another, and just as she feels herself beginning to drift, the sensation of Severus settling his head above hers and nuzzling against the riotous bunch of curls. _It'll be an awful bird's nest tomorrow…_

Finally, together, they sleep, curled into one another in a warm tangle of limbs and cotton.

When she wakes up again, Severus is nowhere to be seen, only the extra wrinkles in the sheets and his lingering scent the only evidence of his stay.

And as she discovers not much later, when Hermione is finally allowed out of bed by Madam Pomfrey, and she makes her way to the bathroom, the neat plait containing most of her hair and preventing too many knots is tied off with a length of black leather. She cannot keep the smile from her face, not until much later when Ron and Ginny fill her in on everything that had happened after she'd been knocked unconscious by Doholov and during her stay in hospital, and even later, when facing Harry's grief over the failure at the Ministry and Sirius' loss.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello, everyone!
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your patience between updates and all! I really appreciate it and hope you love this slightly-longer chapter. :)

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The first part of the summer before sixth year drags by at an interminable pace. But luckily for Hermione, before she knows it, she is rushing down the stairs early one afternoon to answer the light knock at her front door. The note from Dumbledore had arrived the day before. She is _finally_ being escorted to the Burrow for the remainder of the summer before going back to Hogwarts!

When the door swings open, she can barely hold back her gasp when she sees Severus Snape standing before her. As his shadowed eyes meet hers, the slight quirking of his lips betrays his own relief upon finally seeing her. Her much less subtle grin plastering her face is a dead giveaway, as well.

Severus tilts his head slightly, glancing up and down the street as subtly as possible. "Could you please let me in before I'm spotted by any number of possible bad ideas?"

"Oh! Sorry!" Hermione starts before tumbling back out of the way, reaching out for him even as he slips into the dim entry, pushing the door closed with one hand and reaching for her with the other simultaneously.

Their hands grasp, fingers tangling together as every cell in her body seems to relax and sigh in relief. They just stand together for a long moment in the entryway, hands clasped and breathing together, before they reluctantly pull away, though their fingers stay tangled together at the tips.

Severus seems to shake himself, clearing his throat almost silently. "We should be moving quickly; I don't have much time before I need to be back." She nods, biting down on her lower lip to hold in another sigh before leading him to the living room. The barely there brush of his free hand against her lower back is the last thing she feels before his hands drop away just as she steps into the sunshine-lit living room.

They are met there by the older Grangers, who are glancing between the dark professor and their daughter with an odd look of understanding that Hermione can only groan softly at when it sinks in what they _must_ be thinking.

After a long pause of silence, Snape takes a deep breath before nodding deeply in their direction. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, my name is Severus Snape. I am Miss Granger's potions professor. You may not remember me, but we've met once before..."

Mary Granger smiles, all straight bright white teeth and sparkling eyes, holding out her hands to him and ushering him over to the caramel-coloured sofa and settling onto the couch right by him, "But of _course_ , dear! We remember you from the summer before Hermione going to Hogwarts. It's such a pleasure seeing you again, as well. Here, let me pour you a cup of tea while Hermione fetches her bags. Richard, why don't you be a dear and help her?"

Mary's brilliant smile in their direction has the two bushy haired Grangers escaping up the stairs and leaving the taciturn professor to a mother's interrogation.

.oOo.

After they've been granted leave to escape, Severus shrinks her luggage, passing it over to her for safekeeping. He escorts Hermione just outside to her backyard and with a final wave from Hermione to her parents watching from the window, he apparates them away.

When they appear in a clearing, rather than directly at the Burrow, Hermione looks up at him in bewilderment. "Where…?"

Severus's brows are furrowed as he looks down at her. "The Forest of Dean."

Her eyes widen in surprise before she peers around curiously. "Really? Why here? I mean, I've been camping out here with mum and dad, but that was years ago and I don't think we were ever this deep in."

"The summer before Hogwarts, just before Dumbledore and I visited your home. Dumbledore saw the pictures and was asking your father questions about the trip, and I remembered the name. I thought it would be easy for you to remember, as well." He watches her as she leans over, inspecting a particularly wildflower that had grown inches taller than the rest of the same grouping. "You will need to memorize this place. It will be a safe place for you in the years to come, when… things become more difficult. Because they will, Hermione, and much sooner than either of us want."

Hermione turns to look back at him then, mouth open to speak before the words wither on her tongue. He stands mostly in the shadows of the more closely growing trees, having not moved much from where they had reappeared by magic, while she had stepped into the warm light filtering through the trees to inspect the flowers.

The obvious parallels are not lost on her, and apparently neither on him at the slight smirk he directs her way. It fades quickly as he motions around. "Memorize it, Hermione. I'll be setting a ward that will only allow you or me to come here. I'll know if - _when_ \- you come."

She swallows hard, looking around the peaceful little clearing, a butterfly flitting between flowers a stone's throw away, before looking back over to Severus. "Help me remember it?"

Snape's eyes flick up, meeting Hermione's intensely. "How, exactly, do you propose that I do that?"

She hovers, hesitating for a moment in the sunshine before bucking up her Gryffindor bravery and stepping closer to him, reaching out her hand to draw him from the shadows. "Meet me halfway?"

He remains standing still for a long moment, his eyes locked on hers. The light breeze stirs the lank strands of hair hanging around his ears, the bushy curls barely restrained by a hair ribbon, and she continues to stand, hand offered, waiting patiently for him to make a move.

A small eternity and he finally steps closer to her, reaching out to cradle her hand in both of his, fingertips caressing her palm, before suddenly pulling her closer to him, into the gloomy shadows.

She gasps in surprise which quickly turns into a low groan as his fingers stroke up and along her bare arm, leaving icy hot streaks of feeling along her nerves. His large hand slides along her shoulder, then gently curls around her jaw as his thumb tenderly strokes along her pounding jugular.

When he tilts his head down, hovering just behind her ear and breathes deeply, she can't hold back the whimper as her knees weaken. "Please…"

"You'll remember this." The cool brush of his breath against her skin makes goose pimples erupt as she shivers and arches up to him. He strokes his fingers once more along her throat, tracing the thumping pulse…

And then steps away. Hermione stares up at him, lips open in surprise and Severus merely returns the look, once more inscrutable. "We should be going. I can't stay any longer without being… _missed_." He sneers before reaching out and curling his fingers around her elbow. "Hold on."

Hermione barely has time to brace herself before they go swirling into the abyss and then reappear in another, but much more familiar field just over the hill from the Burrow. She gasps in shock, then jerks her arm from Severus's hold, glaring at him. "A bit more warning would have been nice, thank you."

"You're welcome." A dark brow arches when she actually bares her teeth in annoyance, daring to chuckle when she huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. "I told you I was short on time. And you will not forget that clearing, so we needed to move on." He shrugs, spreading his hands in front of him. The only thing betraying his amusement is the lively sparkle in his dark eyes.

She snorts and turns away, struggling to keep the grin from her face and failing miserably. When he wraps his arms around her and gives her a brief hug, she gives up completely and lets out a laugh. "Who knew that Severus Snape had a sense of humor?"

"No one alive, I'd wager. We'd better get you inside; I should have returned by now." Severus glances over his shoulder and, with a hand pressed to her lower back until just before they were within easy eyesight of the home, ushers Hermione in the direction of the Burrow.

After delivering her to the Burrow's doorstep and watching silently as Molly Weasley bustles her inside with promises of roast beef, Snape disappears again for most of the summer. Once or twice, she hears his voice from the kitchen during a gathering and at the mere sound of it, her entire body warms and almost hums, as though in some sort of anticipation. Her skin would become hot and prickly, and the mere touch of another's skin would be as hot as touching the stove top, burningly painful.

Of course, Severus would be long gone by the time she eases her way through the crowd and into the kitchen.

Hermione tries to focus on helping Harry, once he is delivered by Dumbledore, but she is also preoccupied with the very thought of her _soulmate_ and recording the interesting reactions her body seems to be going through. As if that isn't an odd enough thing, but that it is also Severus Snape, hated potions professor, really takes the cake.

And late at night, thinking back on the Forest of Dean, after making sure Ginny is deep asleep - and from the soft snores, she either is or a really good faker - she slips her hand into her knickers and fingers her slippery clit until she comes with a shudder.

.oOo.

After the trip to Diagon Alley, the run-in with the remaining Malfoys, and Harry's re-awoken obsession with Draco, Hermione is truly looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. She's also feeling so prickly by the time her shoes strike the Hogwarts flagstone that she's ready to peel her clothes off. Or hunt Severus down and climb into his arms for an hour.

Of course, Harry ruins any hope of _that_ with his little stunt in Malfoy's train car and his subsequent arrival to the welcoming feast, escorted by the very man Hermione was hoping to run into sooner than later. She huffs at Harry when he settles at the table, her eyes following Severus as he strides to the head table, before focusing back on Harry.

The next morning, after seeing DADA as the first class of the day, Hermione eyes Harry warily before exchanging worried glances with Ron. This was not going to go well.

And because Harry and Severus are involved, of course, it doesn't, with hexes and jinxes flying and ends with Harry having detention with Severus. Potions only make things worse with Slughorn fawning all over Harry as though he were Christ Redeemed. Or Merlin? Whomever. It was ridiculous, and Hermione couldn't stand another moment of it, which is how she now finds herself sneaking down the corridors to Snape's rooms, rather late in the evening though still _just_ before curfew.

Cloaked, shoes muffled, and entire body disillusioned, she makes it almost silently all the way down to the last set of stairs before his room's door when the sound of a group coming down the steps behind her sends her heart into overdrive. Hermione scampers down the hall until she can push herself into a niche of wall behind a pillar. Eyes wide, she watches a group of Slytherins, mostly fellow sixth years with a few older and younger amongst the number. After most of the group passes, slinking along behind with hands tucked into his pockets and shoulders slumped is an exhausted looking Draco Malfoy.

Hermione frowns, watching them disappear farther down the hall, in what must be the direction of the Slytherin common room. She licks her lips nervously then inches down the hallway to tap lightly on the large wooden door. Made of some kind of dark wood, it was extra wide and shiny with age, extremely thick, a virtual fortress of a door, and she has loved it since she first saw it.

Just as Hermione's knuckles strike the wood for the first time, the door practically disappears and she's grasped by a cool pale hand yanking her into the room where she collides with a wool-covered chest.

"Are you alright? Were you seen? Why is your heart pounding so hard?" Severus's voice is a hiss against her hair, one arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, the hand splayed wide to hold her close, while his other hand holds his wand at the ready.

"What? How did you know? And wait, back up! Yes, I'm alright! You haven't even looked at me properly, I'm disillusioned! They startled me, and now you've given me a huge bloody fright and -!"

He interrupts her tersely, "You are not disillusioned."

"Excuse me?" Hermione sputters, peering up at him wide-eyed.

"You are not disillusioned. I can see you clearly." Severus finally relaxes just enough to draw back from her, turning to flick his wand and the lights raise up to brighten the room further. Turning back to Hermione, he reaches out and pokes her in the forehead. "There you are."

Hermione gapes up at him, brown eyes saucers. "You can see me. No one else could see me. I walked right past Flitwick and Sinistra drinking behind the statue of Wilfred the Wistful and they, well, they _were_ being rather sneaky and seemed to be on high alert, and they still didn't see me! Neither did any of those Slytherins who just passed me in the corridor!"

"Then how am I able to see you? Hmm. Curious. This must be some other side effect of our bond." Severus tilts his head, examining her curiously. Tapping his finger against his lips, he slowly circles her, eyes roaming her from every angle.

Hermione licks her lips, squirming at the unexpected warmth that his attention stirs throughout her limbs.

"This is an unexpected happenstance. We'll have to experiment, see what the limits are to this." Severus ceases circling her, stopping just in front of her. His hand, seemingly of its own will as he is scowling at it faintly, reaches out to touch the back of her hand.

The electrical shock makes them both jump, then reach for one another again, as some kind of deep-seated craving is brought back to life. Hermione steps closer, grasping his other hand and sighing as the increased skin contact seems to only increase the craving. She presses her face into his chest, breathing deeply as she feels his head dip towards hers, the light stirring of her hair from his own breath.

They stand that way together, leaning into one another and drawing some sort of strength from each other, the very air around them practically vibrating with some kind of power.

Hermione lets out a slow breath as her arms curl against her chest and she leans against Severus as every fiber in her being relaxes and unwinds. He tenses at first, before slowly raising his arms and settling them around her gently.

"Why did you come down here?" His voice is low and rumbling in her ears, with his chest so close.

"I needed… something. To touch you, maybe? To breathe. It hasn't been right." Her voice is soft, embarrassed at her actions now that her mind has cleared up some, now that she is touching him.

Severus pauses, his chest expanding as he draws in a breath before it suddenly shrinks again as he lets out a quiet, reluctant chuckle. "Yes. I know what you mean." His chest expands then shrinks again in a sigh before he speaks. "I know I've said it before, but this is going to be… difficult, Hermione. Exceedingly so, for both of us."

The sharp prickle at the corners of her eyes makes Hermione grit her teeth, breathing in slow and deep through her nose as she tries to stave off the tears. "I know. Severus." Her bright brown eyes shoot up to his, meeting his dark gaze. "I'm sorry, but I can't… I can't deny this. No matter what happens. Now that I know, I can't see you not there."

He stares down at her for a long time before he leans in and presses his severe mouth to her forehead and tightens his arms around her. They are silent, only the sound of the fireplace and the occasional groan from the castle interrupting their moment.

When he finally pulls himself away from her after another stroke of her dark bushy hair, Severus escorts Hermione straight to Gryffindor tower. No other words are exchanged and the last stroke of his fingers against her otherwise invisible curls as he departs feels rather like a goodbye.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello all! First, thank you so much for your patience between chapters, as well as all the lovely reviews! Second, now that it is summer, I'm hoping to be able to push through and finish this up soon! I see another three, maybe four chapters. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Throughout the year, Hermione and Severus meet up when they can, where they can. Rarely for more than a few minutes at a time, they grasp one another during those moments, hardly ever exchanging words, only the warmth generated from their bodies, hands, and arms pressed together, skin to skin.

Her favorite moments are when she can get his shirt loose at the throat, just enough that she can press her forehead to the dip of his collarbones, feel the bone, his breath, smell his scent, hear his heart - living, moving - and she knows he is _right there_.

Hermione speaks most of the few words they do exchange occasionally. Severus rarely answers, usually only pulling her into his arms and holding onto her, often tightly as though afraid she will disappear then and there.

It's too dangerous for them both to meet more than in passing; Voldemort is on high alert and there are known and unknown spies everywhere.

They don't exchange another kiss during their short time together; it never seems the right time.

And then.

.oOo.

Hermione sits in one of the chairs lining the lawn, her eyes fastened on the gleaming white tomb. They feel unnaturally wide, her eyes, as though still widened from the shock of Harry's announcement.

_Dumbledore is dead._

And far worse, so much worse…

_Snape killed him._

Learning that Severus had been the Half-Blood Prince all along; that it is _his_ Potions book that Harry ended up with, that Eileen Prince was his mum,… and that he had _killed Dumbledore_.

Hermione had cried that night; sobbed long and hard - for him, for herself, for Dumbledore, for Harry...

For the dreams that had died right in front of her eyes.

She had fallen asleep that night, still crying, and had woken up dry-eyed. Not another tear has fallen since that day.

Sitting here now, her gaze on the white tomb of the world's greatest wizard… Hermione feels hollow, like a drum. Her skin is tight, stretched across the chasm that is gaping inside of her chest.

_Dumbledore is dead. Snape killed him._

There are things to do, things to prepare for… there is a war coming.

.oOo.

Hermione stares at the empty bedroom, her head leaning against the doorjamb. All of her parents' personal things were gone. They had been Obliviated and she had implanted a memory that they had sold their home, including the furnishings, placed the few personal items they had kept in storage, and withdrew all of their money to fulfill their dream of retiring to Australia.

She feels rather badly about keeping a large amount of money for herself to live on for the next year or two, but it is a necessity. In the Muggle world, with her parents gone, she is still a minor. Without them, or at least the illusion of them, she could find herself in trouble with the muggle authorities and that is just one more complication that she hopes to avoid.

The empty hole in her chest continues to echo her own heartbeat back at her, amplified.

Sometimes, just sometimes, it seems like it's echoing the beat of another's back at her, but only sometimes and never for sure. The harder she listens, tries to feel it, the quicker it disappears.

Hermione takes a deep breath, stumbling into her parent's old bedroom with a small sob and collapsing onto the bed. She curls up around one of the spare pillows, trembling and gasping and sucking down the tears until she falls asleep.

.oOo.

The creak of the floor just outside her parent's room awakens her suddenly. Her hand clenches around her wand, where it is shoved under the pillow. Her heart pounds loudly in her ears, as she forces herself to lay still and continue breathing, and she glances up at the watercolor picture hanging over the dresser.

Reflected in the glass is the tall, slender shape of a heartbreakingly familiar form.

Every muscle in her body locks in place when he moves into the bedroom, the light swish-tap of his heavy dragonhide boots the same.

A large, warm hand settles on her arm and the electrical shock makes her jerk in surprise. "Oh!" And then she promptly breaks down into fresh sobs.

Arms clad in dark wool scoop her up as though she were feather light, cradling her close to his chest as he pulls her into his embrace, his low voice mumbling into her hair. "Hermione, Hermione, it's all right. I'm so sorry, It's all right. I'm sorry."

Her body reacts automatically: muscles loosen and her arms raise, wrapping around his neck, and clinging to him. Hermione whimpers, pressing her cheek against his, absently noting the prickle of his scruffy cheek.

Severus's arms are rigid around her, muscles locked as he holds her firmly, just this side of too tight. His fingers burrow into the curls hanging heavy down her back, pressing into the skin at the base of her neck until he could believe that once he lifts his hand, his fingerprints would still be left behind.

She breathes in deeply, his familiar sandalwood and tea scent filling her lungs as the fire races through her nerves at every point of their skin contact.

Hermione pulls back suddenly, and the snap of her hand against his cheek sends his head flying to the side. She gasps, her hands covering her mouth as she stares at him with wide eyes.

He grunts at the strike, before just turning his head back to look at her, the red hand print blooming bright against his pale skin. "I deserved that."

Hermione stares up into his face, brown eyes scanning and noting the dark bags, unshaven face, and greasy hair. " _Why_?"

"He made me. I had to promise, _swear_ to Albus. He was already dying, his hand was cursed." His Adam's apple bobs hard as he swallows, eyes slipping closed.

Hermione gasps, her hands reaching out to clutch at his coat. _It must have been a horcrux!_ "I knew… I _knew_ it wasn't you. I couldn't believe it! It didn't make any sense, not any of it!"

Severus shakes his head slowly, eyes clenched. "It _was_ me, Hermione. I did it."

"No! Well, yes, you held the wand, but Professor Dumbledore made you swear! It was all his choice." Hermione shakes her head rapidly, cutting him off as he opens his mouth. "Don't argue with me! You can feel this, right?" She slides her hands up until she's cupping his face, the spark of their skin touching warming through her.

His voice is a low burr, rumbling, the warning thunder before the storm. "Yes; you're always warm, like the sun on my skin."

Hermione swallows hard, pressing her fingers more firmly against his slightly hollowed cheeks. "And you're a spark, electricity through my nerves."

Severus's eyes open slowly, dark gems glittering behind his lashes. "Hermione…"

"No. Not right now. We will leave in the morning, and it will be… so hard, but we'll make it through, and then we can figure it all out, but right now, just… don't." She stares up at him beseechingly, her eyes glazed from her recent tears.

He lets out a slow breath through his nose, before nodding once. "I am free for the rest of the evening; I'm not expected anywhere. After tonight, as you say, it will be difficult. We must not fail. Dumbledore mentioned that Potter was on his own mission. Don't tell me anything, and I won't tell you more. The less we know, the less we can tell."

Hermione's eyes slip closed before she slumps forward and lays her head on his chest. She stays there for a long moment before speaking, her words muffled against his coat. "Can we sleep?"

There's a moment of silence before his hands slide from her curls gently. "Of course. I'll just go downstairs, and…"

"No." She interrupts him, her head popping up to scowl at him. His brows quirk at her expression before his face smoothes again. "I mean, we sleep here. Together."

Severus freezes, his mouth opening slowly, then closed again before he frowns.

Just as he opens his mouth again, she covers his lips with her fingers. "And you're not arguing with me. We're leaving in the morning. I'm not asking for… anything from you. Just sleep." She hesitates, before blurting out, "I obliviated my parents today. They're flying to… away, right now, not even knowing that they have a daughter."

Now _his_ eyes are wide with shock, staring down at her. "That's irreversible."

"I know." Hermione hiccups a little, her head sagging. "I'd rather have parents who are safe and alive and not able to remember me, than dead."

"Oh, Hermione." He pulls her back into his arms, snug against his chest. "Yes, we'll sleep here tonight. Then tomorrow…"

"Tomorrow."

They separate long enough to clean up and prepare for bed. Hermione changes into some of her own pajamas and transfigures some for Severus while he cleans up in the bathroom. When they finally settle into the bed, Hermione curls up against his side, tucked under his arm and her head on his chest. Her hand tucks under his shirt to lay against the skin of his side while one of Severus's burrows in her hair to press against her scalp.

They lay together for a long time, neither sleeping, breathing in the other's presence.

.oOo.

When Hermione awakens, the sun just barely peeking through the curtains, she is alone. This time, however, instead of only a few wrinkles in the sheets at her side, is left a small bag and a folded piece of parchment. Reaching out, she pulls the bag and parchment to her. She hesitates, hovering over which to look at first.

Finally, with trembling fingers, she tugs the bag's strings open until she can pour the contents into her palm. Lying there in her hand is a shining length of golden rope, and nestled in the coils, caught on the chain, is a small plain gold band.

Frowning, Hermione unfolds the note next.

_Hermione,_

_I've left before you've woken for many reasons. I'm sure you know and can agree with them all. Neither of us can spare another moment._

_In the bag, if you haven't already opened it, is a ring. It was my mother's and as such, I would consider its presence the same as that of a promise. I promise everything to you, when we meet on the other side of this mess._

_Wear it. Keep it safe for me, as it's all I have left of her. It, and I, are unworthy of you, but I've laid every protective charm I know on the chain._

_Keep yourself safe. Remember the clearing._

_SS_


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello, all! Thank you so much to everyone for all of the amazing reviews. You'll never know how much I appreciate every single one! I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Severus stares down at the paper in front of him, spread out across his desk. Sitting in the Headmaster's chair, in the Headmaster's office, at the very center of Hogwarts herself… he should feel like the most powerful man in the world, aside from the Dark Lord, perhaps. But instead, with his dark eyes fastened on one of the names printed in the _Daily Prophet_ 's list of muggleborns wanted for interrogation, he only feels despair.

_Hermione Granger, 18_

.oOo.

She remembers the clearing, thank God. After the run-in at Godric's Hollow, and at a momentary loss for a location other than the wish for a safe place with her whole heart, she apparates them to the clearing. Though it's covered in snow and some of the leaves glitter with ice, she immediately spots the place she had stood with Severus, forever and a day ago and the memory is like a fist directly to the gut.

Hermione swallows hard and tears her eyes away from the spot, reaching up to clutch the ring and necklace around her neck. Sometimes, she thought it felt warmer than usual, but it never felt _un_ usual and when she tried to decipher the layers of spells that Severus had worked into the chain, it had literally _sparked_ at her, so she had given in with a huff.

It was just another thing on her list to deal with, _after_.

Much later that night, Hermione stirs from her light slumber when she feels Harry pass through the wards. She leaps from the bed, shoving her socked feet into her trainers as she goes and just as she makes it to the tent's door, she runs face-first into a solid wool covered chest.

The immediate spark leaves her gasping in shock as her head flies back to stare up into Severus's face. He looks surprised as well, obviously not having expected her to come running right into him. "Hermione!"

"Severus?"

"Who the bloody hell else would I be?" He scowls down at her, his dark brows drawing together over his prominent nose.

Hermione glares back at him, frizzy hair hopelessly pulled back into a frizzy plait. "You could be an imposter, some Death Eater with Polyjuice!"

"You idiot girl!" Severus growls as he raises his hands and grasps her face firmly, this side of too hard, and as the slide of his skin against her's erupts fire along every nerve, she gasps out loud and reaches up, curling her hands around his bare wrists. His answering low grunt proves that her touch makes him react, as well.

She grins then, probably a bit too widely, as the tears well up in her eyes. "Sev…" Hermione sniffs hard, blinking and spilling the tears down her pale cheeks.

"Hermione…" His voice softens to a rumble as his fingers soften as well, gentling their touch as he strokes his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away the tears and leaving behind slightly grimy streaks. "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright. I'm so tired, and I'm hungry because protein bars are _horrid_ , and Harry won't stop whining, and Ron _left us_ , and I miss _you_!" She sobs, tugging at his jacket. "I just want to have tea with you again, and to not be running anymore!" Her voice wavers as she sucks in a breath, more tears spilling down her cheeks, dripping across his hands and down his wrists to soak into his shirt cuffs.

Severus pulls her against him, pressing her face against his chest as she cries, her arms wrapping tight around his waist, under his coat. He holds her, rocking gently on his feet as he strokes her hair, murmuring softly into the curls. "I know, Hermione, I know. Me as well." He squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his teeth above her head as he holds her close. Pushing the emotions back down and behind his shields is a struggle as Hermione is being overwhelmed by her own; her emotional strife seems to be heightening his own, purely by proximity. _Make a note of it later, old man._

He finally pulls away just a little, tugging a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiping her face with it before tucking it into her hand. "I don't have much time; the boy wonder should return before long, and you'll need time to process this before you get overwhelmed with _that_." He reaches out to stroke her hair again, before sighing and shaking his head as she opens her mouth, obviously with questions. "Not yet. I have a great deal to tell you in very little time. It will help you and Potter finish all this, though much of it… much of it you will not want to hear."

Hermione frowns before grasping his hands and pulling him over to her cot, and drawing him down to sit beside her. "Alright, Severus. Quickly, then; tell me everything."

Later, when Harry and Ron tell her their story and at the mention of the glowing doe, she just smiles, a tiny quirk of her lips.

.oOo.

Severus had been correct, of course. She hadn't liked any of what he told her, and neither had he. Considering Dumbledore's machinations concerning Harry Potter made her stomach sour, and then led into another thought - _why did he allow Severus and I to spend so much time together? Was it some other plan?_

Of course, now that he was dead, there was pretty much no way for her to have that answer, so she lets the thought go with only a bit of internal struggle.

By the time the trio arrives at Hogwarts in search of the diadem, Hermione has lost over a stone, despite the abundance of protein and granola bars and freeze dried fruit she had stored in her expanded bag. The small stove in the magical tent had helped to provide a steady supply of rather boring meals, with the trio popping into Muggle markets and using Hermione's Muggle cash occasionally, as needed. But stress and being constantly on the move, as well as using _so much_ magic, takes a toll.

Destroying Hufflepuff's cup was one of the most difficult things she'd ever done up to that point in her life, and when not much longer later, Ron had considered the _elves_ , and overwhelmed with love for her best friend, she had hugged him fiercely and went to kiss his cheek - and then he'd turned his head and her lips met his, and a blistering fire burned through her mouth, followed by another around her neck, and she wrenched herself away from Ron with a shocked cry.

"Hermione! What was _that_?" Ron looked shocked and confused, his arms hanging by his side.

" _OI!_ There's a war going on here!" Harry shouts and Hermione spins on her toes, striding down the corridor, while discreetly scrubbing at her tingling lips with her sleeve.

"Come on, guys, we need to find the diadem, and get out of here!" She begins to run in the direction of the seventh floor, hearing the boys following along behind.

.oOo.

Creeping down a small hill behind the house, the trio crawl as close to the Shrieking Shack as possible. Peering up, Harry slowly raises up, until he can peer into one of the dusty windows.

Hermione edges around the corner of the shack, wand clutched in her hand as she listens to Voldemort's voice and then she jolts at the sound of Severus's, her lips parting in shock as she quickly moves to a cracked window, where she can peer inside to see what is happening, as well as hear.

As soon as Voldemort turns his attention to the potions master, Hermione's eyes widen and she whispers, "No."

She pushes past Harry, - who has bitten into his knuckle to keep from crying out as he, too, watches in dawning horror - reaching for the broken window and almost getting to it just as Ron's arms wrap around her waist and jerk her back behind the crates, hissing into her ear. " _What do you think you're doing, Hermione?! You'd be slaughtered!_ "

Severus's scream sends an electric bolt through her as a sharp flare of pain hits her neck and she slumps against Ron for a moment, before quickly struggling up and away from the flailing redhead.

Hermione and Harry levitate the crates out of the way as quickly as they can, so that they may climb into the room as soon as Voldemort has left the Shack. Ron follows much more reluctantly as the two scramble over to kneel beside Severus's twitching body.

Hermione sobs without tears, her body in shock as her hands press a cloth - _his handkerchief,_ she hazily notes - to Severus's heavily bleeding neck. Ignoring Ron's hissed warnings, Hermione folds down onto the dirty floor beside her soul mate, her hands wrapped firmly around his throat as she slumps against his side, maximizing their contact. Skin to skin was the best, but wouldn't _that_ be difficult to explain to the boys?

A lump in his pocket makes her shift and twist, careful to keep one hand to his throat as she digs it from his pocket unceremoniously, ignoring Ron's strangled shout at her. It's a potions tube, corked and sealed with dark wax. She gasps in shock, staring at it in shock for a heartbeat before biting the wax open and pulling the cork from the tube with her teeth. "Oh, God, please, open your mouth!" Hermione reaches up, prying open Severus's mouth as his eyes widen at her and she pours the potion down his throat.

Severus gasps, then gurgles, his head slipping back as a stream of opal tears begins leaking from his eyes as he stares up at Hermione. _They're memories!_ She digs out a clean vial from her bag, collecting them and then passing it off to Harry. "Here, they're memories! They must be, they must be about, about something _important_!" She lets out a little sob as she twists to look down at the pale man, her hands covered in his blood as she continues to press against his neck.

Their eyes meet again, inky pools against anguished brown. He blinks once, slowly, before turning his head slightly in order to look at Harry.

"Look… at me…"

Harry looks down at Severus in shock, his eyes wide as they stare at one another for a moment, before the inky black eyes drift shut. Ron is behind Harry, one hand holding onto his shoulder tightly, both transfixed on the potion master's face as he gasps out one last breath.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope all of my American readers had a wonderful 4th of July and I hope you all enjoy the new chapter. :D

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Hermione, we have to go! Hermione!" She ignores Ron's words, hovering over the quiet body of Severus Snape, her hands still pressed to his neck. "Hermione! He's dead, and we need to go! Come on!"

She hears Ron turn to Harry, and their voices, but her eyes never leave Severus's face. After a few moments, she peels the blood soaked handkerchief away from his throat. The skin, previously darkened and swollen around two large punctures, has smoothed out and the last lingering bit of faint yellow shade is slowly fading even as she watches.

Hermione lets out a deep breath and turns to the boys, still arguing in low voices just a few steps away from her. "Go on without me. Someone should… should cover his body. You should go watch those memories, Harry. Ron, go with him. Watch his back."

The two turn towards Hermione, both scowling and mouths open, hot words tumbling from their lips, and she raises a bloody hand to stop them. "No. I'm staying here for now. Go to the headmaster's office, use Dumbledore's old pensieve. Go now, Harry; we are short on time."

Harry frowns, staring hard at Hermione for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. Apparently he finds what he is looking for, as he takes a slight step back as his shoulders loosen and he nods. "Hermione is right. Ron, with me. We need to check these memories out before something else happens. Ol' Voldy will be preparing to make his next move any time."

Without another word, Harry turns on his heel and strides from the room. Ron scowls, red-faced, glaring at Hermione, then after Harry. "For Merlin's sake!" He hovers for a moment more, obviously torn, before he finally throws up his hands and storms after Harry.

She looks down at Severus, her soul mate, and reaches up to stroke a few strands of lank hair from his face, smoothing the pads of her fingers along his cheek and leaving a few faint streaks of dried blood behind, as she sighs heavily. "Oh, Severus." She hesitates then leans over him and presses her dry lips to his softly, before sitting back again.

When she opens her eyes to look down at him, she smiles tenderly at the dark sparkling eyes gazing up at her from between equally dark lashes. " _There_ you are."

A pale hand slides up into her frazzled braid, pads sliding along her scalp to pull her down to him. Their mouths meet and the fires burst across their nerves, racing down their throats and through their limbs.

Hermione collapses against his chest as her hands burrow into his lank hair and into the neck of his coat, spreading her fingers as he does the same to increase as much contact between them, power flowing between them almost visibly, a faintly shimmering aura between them.

Their passionate, frantic kisses finally slow and gentle, before Hermione pulls away enough to press her forehead to his with a soft hiccup. "You were gone."

"No. I never left you. _He_ only had to believe. I was hoping he wouldn't use Nagini, her poison will leave me… weak for a while, but it's better than dead." He grunts softly when she thumps his chest in response. "Hush. Now, we can prepare for the final strike." Severus holds her close, rubbing his thumb along the length of her neck. "We'll be rid of him, once and for all. And then…"

Hermione tilts her head back to look into his eyes, sliding one hand up to stroke along his cheek. "And then."

The corner of Severus's mouth quirks in her favorite almost smile in response, before she pushes away from him, thoroughly looking him over for any other obvious wounds. Once satisfied, she sits back on her heels, her hand tucked into his. "All right. Come on, I think I have a plan." Together, disillusioned and muffled from head to toe and hands clasped tightly, they make their way from the Shack and back towards the school.

.oOo.

Afterwards, once everything is over, Hermione had shaken Harry almost completely silly for pulling such a stunt, _sacrificing_ himself in such a way, before being gently led away by Severus. It is generally unacceptable to shake the Boy Who Lived Twice, but if anyone can get away with it, Hermione can, and only Severus could disengage her without a wand being turned on him.

His presence amongst the Order causes quite a bit of murmuring in the day following the war, but Hermione and Harry's unwavering (and Ron's albeit reluctant) support, as well as Kingsley's - once he watches the memories in both Harry's _and_ Severus's presence, before they were returned directly to Severus… well, no one was going to _openly_ challenge him.

Especially not when the timely removal of the Invisibility Cloak from his person - not long after Harry's miraculous return to life - had left Voldemort and many of his best lieutenants so apoplectic in furious shock that many of their barriers were able to be broken through and the Death Eater forces to be taken down that much more quickly.

And _most_ especially not when he'd then proceeded to remove Dolohov's head from his body with one swipe of his wand, moments before that wand itself had been struck by another curse, exploding it into a hundred pieces, many embedded into his hand as he cursed a blue streak, while he withdrew his second wand from his sleeve with his right hand, striking down his assailant and a stray Death Eater who happened to be just behind the first, all in one angry motion.

Not yet, anyway; he was reasonably confident that his presence would elicit a different and more familiar response, once his ties to Hermione are made public. Despite the way she had held her own during the Final Battle, taking down _almost_ as many Death Eaters as Severus (though often in more humane ways), he is sure that once their bond is revealed to her friends, he would be facing down the business end of numerous wands in some misguided attempt to "protect her."

Luckily, that wouldn't be anytime in the very near future, if he had his way. One of many things that they would discuss at that undefined _later_.

Once the Dark Lord's body is collected, everyone still standing is assessed and treated for injuries. Many are sent off to St. Mungo's for additional treatment, while the majority of those remaining in the castle have drifted off to _elsewhere_. Severus treats his hand - wincing as the worst of the splinters are removed - and the numerous scratches Hermione managed to collect, lingering momentarily on the scars he discovers. They exchange a look before moving on. _Later_.

Later that morning, he discovers himself left with only Hermione, Potter, Miss Weasley, Weasley, Weasley, Longbottom, and Lovegood.

Potter and Miss Weasley seem to have become one in a chair, their heads pressed together and eyes closed. Severus is completely unsure if they are asleep or not, nor does he particularly care. The others are definitely awake and that is becoming a problem as he is exceedingly ready to find chambers, preferably his old properly secured ones, and _definitely_ with Hermione at his side.

The not-so-occasional side-long, wondering looks from the others in his direction are on his last nerve, and considering the day included an all-out battle, that is saying something.

 _She_ , however, is in a low-voiced conversation with the other Weasleys and their compatriots.

Mercifully, as if sensing his thoughts, or at least their direction, her eyes flicker up to meet his and a small smile quirks her lips. She tilts her head at him before taking a deep breath as she stands. "All right, I believe it's time for us to head to bed." And as the others begin to shuffle and stand as well, groaning and muttering to each other, Hermione turns to Severus and with a beatific smile on her face, holds a hand out towards him. "Ready?"

The expression on their faces are _almost_ worth the shouting that erupts after a stunned beat of silence when he merely quirks a brow at her before accepting her "assistance" in standing and then, without releasing her hand, proceeds to quickly lead her from the room, with a rapid fire locking spell keeping the others trapped inside for a good fifteen minutes head start, all while she laughs breathlessly, a little manically.

Severus looks down at Hermione with a slight scowl. "You know they're going to be quite angry with you tomorrow."

"Oh, I know. And once I explain everything, they'll be just fine."

His dark brows inch slightly higher up his forehead. "I wonder if you may overestimate your friends' abilities."

"I wonder if _you_ may be underestimating _my_ abilities, Severus." She smirks up at him, in an eerily familiar expression that he has seen in the mirror, reflected back at him numerous times in his life. "Now, let's go, before they get out. I need a shower and a solid twelve hours of sleep, and probably a good cry, because this has been the hardest thing ever." Hermione tilts her head up towards him, her eyes watery and smile quickly crumbling.

"My rooms are on the other side of the castle; they should hopefully still be in one piece." Severus scoops her hand up in his, pressing his lips to her knuckles as he escorts her down the stairs.

It takes a while to find a safe route down to his rooms, which, luckily, also makes finding them that much more difficult once her compatriots break free of the locking spell.

Once locked inside, with muffling charms and all of the wards - enough to keep even Dumbledore at bay for perhaps an hour - he has ever personally woven into the castle's wards surrounding his rooms activated, Hermione showers properly for the first time in what feels like ages. Since the magical tent didn't have a shower, and _aguamenti_ 'd water was still _magical_ and just didn't have the same feel, it was rather divine to be truly clean again.

Once clean and dry, Hermione slips into one of his large cotton shirts, left hanging on the back of the door for her, before exiting the bathroom.

Severus is sitting and reading in the chair by the fire when she leaves the bathroom, and his dark eyes flicker up to her, watching her cross the room and get into the bed. She settles into the clean sheets, pulling the blankets up to her chin as she watches him, her eyes shiny in the firelight.

They are silent for a long moment, merely watching each other and drinking in the other's presence, safe and secure. Finally, Severus tucks a bookmark into the book he abandoned upon her re-entrance, and sets it aside. He walks over to the bed, leaning in just enough to reach over, tucking her hair behind her ear, and stroke his thumb along the shell.

Hermione sighs softly, smiling at his touch as her eyelids drift closed. She acknowledges his murmured "I'll be back shortly." with a low hum, and she's asleep before Severus even reaches the bathroom door.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Heeeey, everyone! A new chapter! I hope you enjoy and thank you so so much to you all for the lovely reviews and kudos! Every single one brings a smile to my face. :D

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

When she opens her eyes the next time, her eyes are sticky and her joints are stiff. She moves slowly, stretching hard until her limbs tremble, as she groans loudly into the soft pillow under her face. 

“I'm sure that's  _ meant _ to feel good, but you  _ sound _ like you're in pain.” 

Hermione’s head pops up off the bed and she gapes through the curtains of her frizzy curls at Severus. He is sitting up on his side of the bed, clad in black trousers and a white button-up shirt, and black boots already laced tight, smirking at her. Her eyes drink him in for a long moment before she reaches out and touches the back of his hand. 

The long palm turns and he cradles her hand in his, watching her as she strokes his palm and edges closer to him.

After a glance up at him, she slips even closer and lays her head on his chest, looping one arm around his waist with a sigh. Severus merely settles his hand on her back, watching her get comfortable alongside him. 

They sit together in silence, his fingers idly weaving through her curls as she idly picks at a knotted bit of thread on his shirt.

“Your friends have been outside of my chambers for about an hour, now.”

Hermione tilts her head back to peer up at him, blinking slowly. “Oh?”

Severus smirks slightly at her response, letting out a low chuckle. “Yes, they have.”

She sighs and stretches out again, sliding her legs through the sheets before she huffs and pushes herself up. “Oh,  _ all right _ .” Crawling out of the bed, she pads across the floor and grabs her expanded bag and slips into the bathroom with it, aware of Severus’s eyes on her the entire time.

Hermione comes back out a short time later, mouth scrubbed clean and minty fresh, hair wrangled into a loose braid over her shoulder, and wearing a pair of denims and a familiar looking white shirt. When she notes his arched brows, she blushes before sniffing at him, nose in the air. “It's a comfortable shirt. And it smells like you. I just got rid of the wrinkles and shrunk it. Don’t look at me like that!”

Severus merely smirks and shrugs at her without a word, having nothing to complain about her wearing his clothing and his scent. He’s long known that he is a possessive man, and that’s highly unlikely to change now that he has an actual life to look forward to with his soul mate.

He stands, a wave of his hand smoothing the wrinkles from his own clothes before he escorts Hermione into the sitting room. The door to the bedroom closes behind them and he motions again, raising the light as additional candles burst into flame.

She smiles at him nervously, twisting her fingers together as her eyes drift towards the door. He steps over to her, settling a large hand onto her shoulder and squeezing gently. “How would you like to handle this? They are your friends, after all.”

Hermione’s eyes fly back over to him, widening even as she reaches out towards him, pressing her hand against his ribs. “I didn’t even think about that... Do you mind them coming  _ here _ ? And you’ll stay here with me, won’t you?”

Blinking in surprise, Severus opens his mouth, then closes it with a small sneer. Reaching out to her, he grasps her elbows and pulls her to him suddenly, registering her surprised gasp just before he kisses her, thoroughly and deeply, until they really must separate in order to breathe. He smirks down at her, scanning her now pinked and puffy lips, dazed eyes and flushed face. “Mm, no, I don’t mind. I suppose I should get used to their presence; you  _ are _ rather a package deal.”

Hermione laughs at that, wrinkling her nose up at him with a smile. “Well, you’re not wrong. And thank you.” She pushes up onto her toes to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, sucking in one more lungful of his scent, before gently stepping back with one last pat to his chest.

Severus takes a seat in his chair, settling back into the cushions as he watches her pause at the door and take a deep breath. She reaches out, and then his eyebrows are flying high on his forehead when she merely reaches  _ through _ his wards and opens the door. Even as Potter and a small contingent of Weasleys tumble through, his dark eyes remain fastened on  _ her _ . 

She is busy grinning at him over her shoulder, their eyes locked, the sound from the others muffled in the background.

“Hermione!” Time suddenly snaps back into place and as one, their eyes flick over to Harry. He and Ron stand shoulder to shoulder, somehow managing to look confused, whilst also scowling in outrage,  _ and _ glaring at Severus, all at the same time. “Will you tell us what,  _ exactly _ , is going on?” 

Ginny and George have also slipped in and made their way over to and claimed seats on the couch, their hands laced together as they watch the others with wide eyes that miss nothing, obviously there mostly out of curiosity, with a dash of support dashed in.

The witch in question huffs at Harry’s demanding tone as she plants one hand on her hip and returns the boys’ glares with one of her own. “Actually, that  _ is _ my plan, Harry, if you can exert enough self-control to sit down and keep your mouth shut long enough to hear everything.”

Severus can barely restrain the laughter at her words, and doesn’t even bother holding back the sneer; why bother when Miss Weasley didn’t even bother trying to hide  _ her _ snickers, nor even appeared abashed when glared at by the two bullheaded idiots?  

Ron frowns, blue eyes flicking between Hermione and Harry and Severus. “And does  _ he _ have to be here?”   
  


Hermione returns his frown, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “Of course Severus has to be here! This concerns him, as well, just so you know.” She hovers indecisively for a moment before abruptly making up her mind and stomping over in his direction.

“Trust me, Weasley; I was not inclined to be here for this, either.” Severus sneers a little wider, though it fades quickly enough as he watches Hermione, as she approaches him and then sits on the  _ arm of his bloody chair _ , folding her legs up and wedging them between his hind end and the chair itself despite his renewed scowl.

Moving over to the couch, as well, and plopping down beside George with a grunt, Ron leans forward, elbows braced on his knees as he stares hard at Severus. “Uh huh. Then why  _ are _ you here?”

One black brow arching in response, Severus doesn’t respond for a long moment as he taps the chair with one finger and watches out of the corner of his eye as Hermione slides down to sit on the newly expanded (but only just enough) seat. Their hips are pressed together, and when she adjusts to settle in more comfortably, her thigh presses along his until they can feel the gentle flow of their magic mingling together. It’s hard to miss the way the other…  _ young adults _ ’ eyes widen as their magic becomes almost visible to even their dull brains, tickling the edges of their senses.

And only then does Severus answer, “Because she asked me to be here.”

.oOo.

It takes over an hour and all of their stomachs are cramping in hunger before Hermione gets through their story. Severus sits beside her, silent for most of it; when his eyes are not on her, they are on the fire.

About halfway through the story, Hermione had laced her fingers through Severus’s, pressing their palms together and sighing as the tingle from their light contact settled and spread warmth through their extremities. She merely smiled at him before continuing on with the retelling, ignoring the other’s glances.

Surprisingly, George was the first one to nod and lean forward once she finishes. “Fred and I have always been a bit more sensitive to bonds, you know, with the whole  _ twin thing _ , and we had wondered…” He tilts his head, eyeing Hermione and their former professor closely, his expression suspiciously enlightened.

Hermione blinks in surprise, exchanging a glance with Severus. “About  _ us _ ?”

“No, no, not you both. Weeeell, yes, but,  _ totally _ separately! We could always pick up something from Snape, but we just always assumed it was something dark.” He shrugs unapologetically at the dark man’s answering eye roll and sneer combination. “Hermione was something  _ else _ ; we never figured out what it was - never saw it before, so this explains  _ so much _ . Fred’ll be pleased that mystery is solved.”

“How  _ is _ Fred doing, George?” Hermione grips Severus’s hand tighter as his eyes never move away from the fire, but his fingers tense around her hand in response.

George bobs his head back and forth. “Better; he was hurt pretty bad by the rocks, but luckily the professor here had kept enough potions on hand, Madam Pomfrey could keep him alive and stable enough until he could get treated at St. Mungo’s. They think his legs will be finished regrowing by tomorrow and he can probably come home in another two after that.”

She lets out a large sigh, smiling even as Severus’s fingers relax and loosen again. “I’m so glad to hear that.” As her stomach cramps and lets out a loud growl, she looks over to Harry and the Weasleys. “I know that this is really difficult for you all to understand, and I’m sorry I kept it from you for so long, but…” Her eyes flick up to Severus, who doesn’t even move, before looking back to her friends. “I hope you can understand why I did. Why  _ we _ did.”

Harry sighs, running his hands through his already messy hair before reaching out and grasping Ginny’s hand with both of his and tugging it into his lap. “Yeah, Hermione, of course, I can understand.  _ We _ can.” He glances at Ron who nods slowly, before grimacing. “It’s just…”

“Weird.” Hermione grins, nodding. “I know; it took us some time to get used to the idea as well.” She licks her lips before disentangling herself from Severus before hopping up. “And I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving! Ready for breakfast?”

Ron stands as well, slower but grinning. “Isn’t that my line?”

Harry and Ginny stand, as well as George, who laughs and slaps his brother’s shoulder. “Always, little brother. Let’s get some food, and quick, because mum is expecting us back at the hospital, ‘ _ and before lunch, mind! _ ’” The last bit, an eerily good mimic of Molly Weasley, makes everyone laugh, and even Severus’s eyes twitch in amusement.

Severus remains sitting as Hermione stands beside his chair, smiling at her friends. “Would you please let her know that I’ll definitely be by to see Fred as soon as they’ll let non-family in?”

George looks at Hermione, his eyebrows flying up his forehead, though Ron is the one who speaks. “Ah, but Hermione, you  _ are _ family.” He pauses, eyes flicking to Severus for a heartbeat, then back to Hermione with a shrug. “We all are.”

Harry, one arm slung around Ginny’s shoulders, turns to look at Severus, meeting his dark eyes. “We  _ are _ all family. Some of us… just a little longer than others.” He grins a little, his eyes sparkling.

Severus’s eyes narrow as he focuses briefly on Harry’s before he glances away with a dismissive snort. Harry only snickers in response, before tugging Ginny along. “Ready for some breakfast, Miss Weasley?”   
  
“ _ God _ , forever! Wait…” Ginny turns back and looks over to Snape, meeting his eyes with a small smirk. “And thank you, professor.”

He pauses, his face smoothing, before he stands, looming behind Hermione as he tilts his head in Ginny’s direction. “Thank  _ you _ , Miss Weasley.” His dark eyes move to Hermione and he offers her his arm. “It’s past time to break our fast, and we should seek out Minerva, as well; see what needs to be done first and make sure the old cat eats something.”

Hermione beams up at him, then at her friends as she rests her head against Severus’s upper arm briefly before ushering everyone out in order to secure the chambers. 

The younger crew chat together on the trip, and exchange embraces at the Great Hall, while the men exchange stoic nods - George’s a bit more stoic than the others, to everyone’s (but, secretly,  _ especially _ Severus’s) amusement - before he escorts Hermione up to the headmaster’s office, the whole trip without releasing her arm.

 

And despite the horrors of the past year, and especially the last few days, she can hardly keep the smile from her face the entire time.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all of you lovely readers! And to thank you for your patience, with my story and the slow updates, here we earn our rating. ;) Enjoy!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 

Exiting the bathroom in her pajamas and a freshly scrubbed face, Hermione is frowning as she tugs open a drawer in the bedside table - on what she’s begun thinking of as  _ her side _ of the bed - and digging through the drawer with a grumble under her breath. She huffs and slams the drawer shut before dropping to her hands and knees, and peering around and under the bed.

 

Severus drops his book into his lap and watches her from his place on the bed, propped up against the headboard. As she pops back up from under the side of the bed, her curls mussed and frizzing, he finally speaks. “ _ What _ , pray tell, are you doing?”

 

“I’m trying to find my leather tie! The one you gave me? I like tying my hair back with it, and I put it on the bedside table earlier, and now I can’t find it.” She plops down onto the side of the bed with a sigh, reaching up to pat forlornly at her curls.

 

There’s a long moment of silence, and then the quiet shuffling of the sheets alerts her to his movement just before his hands are delving into her hair. He hesitates a moment when she stiffens in surprise, but when she abruptly relaxes again, he begins to delicately work the knots from her curls. Hermione is boneless by the time he has smoothed her hair and pulled it back in a neat plait. She finally stirs and attempts to straighten up, reaching one hand towards the drawer again. “I’ll need a hair tie…”

 

“Done.” A long pale hand appears over her shoulder to drop her braided hair into eyesight. At the end of the braid, tied off to hold her hair in place, is her missing leather string.

 

She blinks at it in confusion before turning to scowl at Severus. “You had it the whole time!”

 

One dark brow arches slowly as he stares back at her, face implacable. Only the gleam in his eyes gives away his amusement.

 

Hermione narrows her eyes at him. “Did you  _ steal _ it from me, Severus?”

 

“Considering that  _ I _ originally lent it to you to tame that wild mop you call  _ hair _ , I would call it retrieving my property and you the thief.” His eyes narrow slightly as he watches her lower lip pout slightly before she sniffs, tilting her nose in the air, and crossing her arms over her chest. Tilting his head, he reaches out slowly, hesitating for just a heartbeat, before lightly laying his hand along her bared neck, all of her hair gathered to the opposite side.

 

The rushing spark followed by the bright flames that lick along their nerves causes Hermione’s body to arch back, until she’s pressed back against his chest. 

 

Severus grunts and pulls into his lap with a low hiss as one arm curls snugly around her waist, his hand sliding along her neck in order to maintain the skin contact. The pleasure that pulses in their cores spreads through their bodies as they curl into one another, legs tangled together and hanging from the side of the bed.

 

Burrowing his large nose into her twisted plait of curls, he breathes in deeply as his fingers slide along the softness of her belly, rubbing over the warm cotton covering her skin. They both have some more weight to gain, but the hearty meals of the Hogwarts elves would have them back to a normal weight before long.

 

Hermione shudders, a rush of breath pushing from her lungs as she lays her head back against his shoulder. The gentle glow that surrounds their bodies whenever they have a moment to touch so much flares abruptly, burning fiercely, as Severus inclines his head and presses his lips gently to the curve of her neck. 

 

As he slides his lips along her skin, he pauses a moment, stroking the tip of his nose back along her skin as he rumbles in her ear. “Whatever happened to the ring? Was it lost during everything?”

 

She chuckles softly and raises her hand. “Never. I disillusioned it.” He reaches out and slides his fingers along her arm, almost smiling as she shivers from the sensation. When he touches the invisible chain, he hums quietly, stroking his fingers along the coils to touch the ring hanging from it, before curling his arms around her stomach again.

 

They sit together for a long moment before inching back onto the bed, curled up together the whole time. 

 

Hermione tugs one of his hands up to her face, cradling it in her hands as she strokes along the long digits, before gently pressing her lips to the pads of his fingers, kissing each one gently.

 

Severus hisses softly against her hair, pulling her tighter against his chest and pressing her hips back against his. The iron force of his cock against her soft bottom causes him to groan and press his mouth to her hair and the soft bit of skin just behind her ear before rumbling. “Hermione…”

 

“Yesss?” She trembles as goosebumps erupt across her skin. One arm reaches up and curls around his neck, nails lightly scraping against his neck through the long silky hair.

 

With a groan, his hips jerk in reaction to her nails and he grinds harder against her. “We should stop, love.”

 

Hermione actually whines a soft, “Noo!” before twisting around in his arms to peer up into his face. “I’m not ready for…  _ everything _ ; it’s still too new. But… some things, I’d be really  _ great _ with, ok?” She threads her hands up between their bodies to cup his face, stroking her fingers along his jaw and smiling at the growing stubble. “I think I like this, actually.” She peers up at him from under her lashes, shyly.

 

Severus holds his breath for a moment too long before letting it out in a rush as he dips his head down to press his mouth to hers tenderly. His hands press firmly against her back as he pulls her closer. Fingers stroking along the bumps of her spine as his tongue brushes lightly against her lips, causing her to moan quietly and open to him.

 

She inches closer until she can curl one leg between his, letting out a throaty laugh when her hip grinds just slightly against his erection and his head falls back with a short growl and another flex of his hips, returning the grind.

 

Suddenly, Hermione finds herself on her back as he flips her over onto it, bracing himself above her. He surveys her with glittering onyx eyes, his gaze slowly sweeping down her body, across the heaving chest and trembling abdomen and spread thighs. Once his eyes return to hers, he pauses to watch her closely. One hand raises and his thumb slides along her cheekbone, stroking the velvety skin, extra warmed from the blush creeping along beneath the spray of freckles there.

 

His hand slowly trails down, along her throat and over the swell of her breast, pausing momentarily to stroke the rising peak of her nipple, pressing against the thin cotton of her sleep shirt. Ignoring her pleading whimper, his hand continues down, tracing the curve of her breast and then dances down along her ribs.

 

Her mouth pops open, obviously with a question on the tip of her tongue, before he plunges down and kisses her, tasting her thoroughly.

 

Hermione’s own hands curl in his hair, pulling the strands between her fingers as she returns the kiss enthusiastically. She shudders as he sinks to his elbows, pressing down closer and heavier on top of her. Catching his tongue between her teeth, briefly, she releases him quickly enough, with a laugh, when his eyes pop open and he scowls at her fiercely.

 

“I’m sorry!” She laughs again, then lets out a shriek when Severus suddenly curls his hands in to tickle her ribs quickly.

 

“You’re not, and I suppose I should get used to it.” His voice, though dry and low, is full of warmth and a tingle of something that causes her eyes to widen as she gazes up at him in wonder.

 

“Severus…”

 

“Shh.” He leans in and kisses her again, soft and slow as he sinks back down to the bed beside her before he rumbles into her ear, his voice slipping a bit into his natural midlands accent. “Turn over.”

 

“What--, wait!” Hermione grunts when he flips her over without waiting for her to move and he settles back behind her again. As he tugs her into the curve of his body, she huffs and squirms around until she’s comfortable. “You’re a tyrant.”

 

His soft chuckle rumbles against her back as his hand strokes across her stomach. “Don’t worry, love. I think you’ll appreciate it.”

 

“What?” Hermione attempts to look back at him before letting out a soft gasp as his hand curls around her breast and squeezes lightly, thumb stroking along her nipple as it crinkles beneath her shirt.

 

When Severus slides his hand under her shirt and trails his fingers along her skin, the fire blooms inside of her like a flower, burning along every nerve until she’s arching into his touch. When he makes it to her nipple, she cries out in pleasured shock.

 

He pulls his hand away slightly, leaning over her enough to peer into her dazed, dilated eyes. “Hermione?”

 

She looks up at him and laughs a little breathlessly, before reaching up with her hand to push his back to her breast, a shudder wracking her body when they connect again. “I’m fine, I… it feels so good.”

 

Severus relaxes against her as he cups her breast again, tenderly tugging at her nipple between two fingers. She whines as her entire body arches into his touch. “Easy. Just relax.” He strokes his fingers along her breast to the opposite, teasing the nipple until it stands out as prominently as the other.

 

“I can’t! Not when you’re doing  _ that _ !” Hermione laughs, then groans a little when his other hand, cool from the air, slips across the skin of her stomach as well. When his fingers lightly trace the edge of her pajama pants, her entire body shudders. “Sev…”

 

“I won’t.” He draws his hand away, laying it flat on her stomach as his other tenderly caresses her entire breast.

 

Hermione slides her hand on top of his, stroking the back of it lightly, then slowly pushes it back down. “Please?”

 

Severus drops his forehead to her shoulder, gasping softly as he continues to slide his hand gently beneath the edge of her pants until his fingers meet the thin hem of her knickers. He hesitates again, nails scraping against the cotton lightly until she whimpers and bucks her hips against his hand. “Please, Sev, don’t stop.”

 

He growls against her neck as he pushes his hand into her knickers, fingers threading through the soft curls atop her mound. He barely feels the bite of her nails against his scalp when she curls her hand up into his hair again, hips twisting into his touch.

 

“Be still, woman.” He drops his other hand from her breast to pin her hips down against his and hooking her leg behind the bend of his knee. “Alright?”

 

She nods quickly, one hand clutching his arm as the other balls up in the sheets. Despite his hand pinning her in place, she still tries to move her hips against his other hand. He chuckles softly, his teeth tenderly nipping her earlobe as his fingers push through the curls, before he hums in surprise at the warm bare damp skin he feels next. “Unexpected.”

 

Hermione gasps as her entire body shudders in reaction to his touch. “Cleaner.”

 

Severus nods almost solemnly as his fingertips tenderly stroke along her wet slit, dipping deeper gradually with each swipe. “Of course.” He lets out a low breath as his fingers swipe against her clit and her hips buck suddenly as she claws at his arm, her whimpered  _ oh my god! _ sending an electric spark through his groin. The warmth of her body in his arms, in the palm of his hand, burns like fire through his whole frame.

 

He splits his fingers and lightly catches her swollen button between them, carefully sliding them back and forth along the hood. He grits his teeth when she screams in his ear and her nails bite into his arm, but when she melts against him with a sweet moan, he gasps as his cock throbs, harder than ever and trapped in his own - thankfully loose - pajama pants.

 

And  _ then _ she reaches back and takes hold of him through his pants in her small hot hand, and he’s forced to bite down hard on his own tongue and summon images of Minerva in a bikini in order not to come then and there.

 

Redoubling his efforts, Severus slips his finger along her clit, swirling his fingers lightly, occasionally dipping them deeper to draw even more of her dew across her clit. 

 

Hermione shudders, crying out as every muscle in her body trembles, the fire raging through her entire body. Her fingers clutch a bit tighter and when she suddenly pulls her hand along his length, his hips move with her and a low, shuddering moan is pulled from his throat.

 

She gasps softly when his fingers flex against her clit, and when she does it again, he cries out harshly against her shoulder. “Fuck!” A breathless laugh escapes her, rather triumphant at his reaction to her - until he slides as much of his middle finger into her as he can manage while simultaneously thumbing her throbbing clit.

 

There is the briefest of pauses, as she turns her head up to meet his eyes, as he turns his head down towards her… just as her orgasm crashes through her body. Her eyes widen as her mouth falls open in shock, before her head falls back against his shoulder, her entire body arching. Severus grunts and when the golden light between them - the constant phenomenon when they remain in close proximity - suddenly flares, blindingly brilliant, he can’t help a sharp cry of surprised pleasure when he finds himself orgasming along with Hermione.

 

It’s a long tense moment, hearts pounding in their chests, before she slumps against him, body trembling delicately in his arms. He slowly sinks down against her back, panting softly against her flushed, damp neck.

 

As they lay together, bodies entangled, their breathing slows and evens and synchronizes. The golden pulse settles around them, leaving behind a faint glimmer that slowly sinks into their skin and fades away.

 

Hermione moves first, tenderly uncurling her fingers from his softened manhood, though her body shudders suddenly when his hand gently slips from her knickers. Severus clears his throat, before murmuring, “I’ll return shortly.” She rolls over onto his pillow as he slips from the bed and quietly pads into the bathroom. 

 

By the time Severus returns from the bathroom, hands washed and fresh pajama pants on, she has fallen asleep, curled around his pillow. He sighs as he stops beside the bed, eyeing her for a long moment before reaching out and gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. He steps around to the other side and crawls back into the bed. After settling in behind her, with one wave of his hand, the candles gutter out. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulls her closer to him before drifting off to sleep as well. 

 

They are completely unaware of the potion master’s wards giving off a brief golden glow before it sinks into the walls and spreading through the school’s connected wards, spreading throughout the entire castle.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So I've finished writing this story. :D Two more chapters to come after this! Enjoy.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The days passed, followed by weeks, and eventually, Hogwarts Castle was whole again.

While working on restoring the castle, Severus and Hermione found themselves alone much of the time. Perhaps because her friends were still uncomfortable about their relationship, or maybe Minerva had taken over Dumbledore's meddling - or a bit of both - but either way, they appreciated the time together, to talk about their lives, the past and most importantly, the future.

Of course, it couldn't stay all sunshiny days. A great storm rocked the newly completed castle the same day the Daily Prophet released the front page article speculating on Hermione and Severus's closeness during repairs, quoting several "sources close to the  _supposed_  couple."

It took almost an hour for Hermione to talk Severus out of hunting down the author, Skeeter's newest protégée, and skewering the idiot with his old wand.

Two days later, Hermione passed Luna Lovegood a rather short piece of parchment with a smile before flouncing back down to the dungeons. The next day, the Quibbler had a large front heading:

_First Soul Mated Pair in Generations Confirmed by Top Witches!_

A short statement, issued from Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, declared Severus Snape and Hermione Granger a soul mated pair, not only confirmed by herself and Madam Pomfrey, as well as other  _legitimate_  trusted sources close to the pair, but by Albus Dumbledore himself before his death.

While the printed statement helps to curtail the wild speculation, it does nothing for the sudden flood of attention to the two find themselves under. Even stepping out to pick up new wands from Diagon Alley becomes a nightmare.

.oOo.

Hermione idly picks through some of the wand accessories hanging on the wall, examining a holster before replacing it on the hook. They have been practically confined to the Castle grounds for the past week, in order to avoid the rabid news seekers. It is finally enough, when Severus scowls at his wand, his original from childhood, and mutters about the power, which elicits even more questions from his soul mate.

"It's old," he explains, "They don't last forever, and especially once I matured…" He levels Hermione with a rather dour look, to which she merely smiles in response. "I needed a wand that could channel my power. I suppose I have to buy a new one."

"I'll go with you; I still need to replace mine." She reaches over to press her fingers into his arm, one of a million small touches they exchange in the course of the day. The flare of warmth through their bodies, comforting and exciting and so  _loving_ , it builds and strengthens every day, with every touch.

That is how they find themselves in Ollivander's on a Thursday afternoon, shopping for wands.

Hermione's new wand had, in a remarkable show of magic, began glowing a brilliant gold as soon as they had walked into the shop minutes earlier. Ollivander had merely chuckled, ignoring their startled looks, and passed Hermione the box without a word. The wand is eleven inches, just a bit longer than her old one, but is also made of vine and dragon heartstring, exactly the same.

Severus is more difficult.

His childhood wand, a rigid fir with dragon heartstring, is passed to Hermione in order to prevent any magical cross contamination, as it were, but it doesn't seem to help. The stack of discarded boxes is growing, yet Severus and Ollivander both remain undeterred.

Hermione finally wanders back over to the pair of men, watching her soul mate open yet another box and withdraw another wand. She peers over Severus's arm at the walnut wand in his hand before wrinkling her nose in distaste. "It's rather large."

He blinks then slowly slides his eyes from the wand to Hermione, one dark brow arching in response. They stare at one another for a moment before she lets out a squeak as her eyes widen and she begins to blush, even as she scowls at him.

Severus replaces the wand in the box and hands it back to Ollivander. "Nothing; from the  _wand_ , anyway. Next?"

The old wandmaker merely grins in response. "You know, I  _believe_  I may have the right one, after all." He shuffles off into the shelves, unaware of Hermione rolling her eyes with an impatient huff and Severus merely smirking at her in response. After a few moments of digging, boxes being tossed out of the way, he returns, a single dusty box in hand.

Severus straightens suddenly, reaching for it with a new surge of urgency. Ollivander nods, relinquishing it to the potions master, watching as he removes the wand and adjusts it in his hand. "Acacia, with dragon heartstring. An unusual wood, not many can control wands made of it. It will often refuse to work for any other witch or wizard besides its own, and will withhold its best work until it measures you as worthy. But I believe you may be able to work with this particular wand, Mr. Snape."

He pauses there, and Hermione peers over Snape's arm at the new wand. "That one."

Severus glances down at her, nodding in agreement, before he elegantly waves the wand in the air. A golden shower of sparks shoot from the tip, transforming into tiny white flowers that melt away into nothing like snow before they reach the floor.

"Oh! That was beautiful!" Hermione laughs, reaching out and lightly touching the wand. As she does, it glows golden briefly, and a few rainbowed bubbles erupt from the wand, floating into the air only to pop and disappear. She laughs again, in delighted surprise, before looking up to Severus with a smile. "Perfect."

He almost smiles in response, before turning to Ollivander, ignoring the older man's stunned astonishment settling into something like knowing wonder. "As always, Mr. Ollivander, I applaud your exceptional skills. We'll take them."

They pay for their purchases and tuck their new wands into their chosen hiding spots - Severus with one wand in each sleeve, and Hermione's in her altered dress pocket, before shrinking their boxes and tucking them into their pockets. Severus opens the door, slipping out and glancing around them before holding it wide enough for Hermione to exit at well.

Severus tucks her arm through his, before leading the way through Diagon Alley. The sun is shining and there are few enough people that they don't expect any trouble, until it bursts out of the Leaky Cauldron, right in front of them.

When Blaise Zabini stumbles out of the pub, wand clutched in his hand and drunken eyes locked on the potions master, decrying the bastard for  _abandoning them_ , Severus easily steps in front of Hermione, tucking her safely behind him with his new wand in hand, despite her protest.

With a few loud pops, the Weasley twins suddenly appear, but the former Slytherin pupil is already sinking to the cobblestones. Draco Malfoy stands behind his old friend, wand drawn, with a frown on his pale face. "Apologies, Professor. Blaise is… distraught. His mother, you see."

Severus pauses, dark eyes surveying Draco closely before he puts away his wand and steps over to the young blond, hand out. "Mr. Malfoy."

"Draco, please, sir." The Malfoy scion grasps Severus's hand after transferring his own wand to the other. "You did everything you could for me, and I never expressed my appreciation."

His thin lips twitch as he grasps Draco's hand. "Draco, you have nothing to express. I was doing what was right." His eyes slip over to Hermione, who stands just to the side, watching with bright eyes.

Draco's eyes follow and he swallows hard, before nodding. "Granger."

Hermione smiles, stepping up beside Severus as their hands drop, automatically reaching out to touch her soul mate. "Thank you, Malfoy."

Fred and George turn to one another, exclaiming each other's names loudly, "Fred! George!", all while shaking each other's hands in increasingly difficult ways. At least, they carry on until Hermione shoots a powerful stinging hex at them both with a glare.

The two rush back to their shop, laughing, but not before George shouts that she's been spending entirely too much time around a certain potions master.

Once the twins are gone, Hermione turns back to Draco watching them closely. She spares a quick glance for the still unconscious Blaise, before looking back to her former foe.

"It must be true, then. At least some of it."

Severus tilts his head, watching his former student for a moment before exchanging a look with Hermione. She is the one who smiles at him, before she turns to Draco. "Why don't you take care of your friend, and then we could have some tea? Come to the castle, it will be quieter there."

Malfoy's eyes widen before he nods. "That would be… appreciated. I'll drop him at home, then tea it is." It only takes a moment before Zabini is being levitated and Malfoy disappears with the other boy in tow.

Severus reaches out, gathering Hermione close under his arm, and disapparating back to the castle grounds without warning. Before she can scold him, he leans in, kissing her thoroughly. She reaches up, pulling him closer down to her by the hair, and returning the kiss so enthusiastically that once getting back to their rooms after their snog, they barely have time to get all of the twigs and leaves from her riotous hair before Draco is knocking at the door.

Tea goes well, filling in one another on some of the less public aspects of their post-war lives - Severus and Hermione's bond, but also Lucius's early death in Azkaban, and Narcissa's slow reconnection with her remaining sister.

It ends with Draco's offer of dinner with his fianceé, Astoria. Severus and Hermione accept, and that's how they find themselves on friendly terms with the new (and much improved) Malfoy family.

.oOo.

One night, Hermione sits on the floor in front of the fire, writing in her notebook. She's taken to writing down her observations about their bond every night; sometimes Severus adds his own input, sometimes not.

In the days following their first romantic encounter, Hermione had noticed that the wards in the castle seemed to somehow recognize her. No door was left locked to her, if she wanted access - including the headmistress' office. They were formulating a theory that her interesting abilities with the wards must be manifesting in other ways as their bond was maturing, perhaps in connection to his former status as Headmaster, and so she began making notes about it all.

Severus himself is a few feet behind her in his chair, reading his own book.

She can pinpoint where he is most of the time now - even as far away as Diagon Alley with some experimenting one day - but within the castle, she knows where he is to the very room. There is no additional sight that accompanies the knowledge; she just  _knows_.

In the middle of writing a sentence, she pauses for an overly long moment. Severus stirs, the change in her thoughts almost projected into his own - wordless, but cluing him in on her sudden mental turmoil.

"What are you thinking?"

Hermione doesn't reply, finishing the sentence she was first writing before laying the pen - a good fountain pen, as she was fussing about quills and their antiquity one day and the next, it had appeared on her bedside table when she'd awoken - in the journal and pushing it away a bit. She turns, crawling a bit closer to him on the plush carpet before pulling out her wand.

Severus merely arches a brow. He closes his book and sets it on the side table before leaning forward towards her, eyes having never left her.

"When was the last time you cast your patronus?" Her voice is soft, almost gentle. She knows the subject could be sensitive, either for him or her - for them both, but she can't shake the thought now.

Both brows rise sharply as he carefully unfolds his legs, settling his forearms on his knees, before hesitating. After a moment he leans forward, sliding from the chair onto the floor and sinking down onto the carpet within her reach. "I would say… not since the Forest of Dean. I can't recall a time since that I've needed to."

Hermione nods slowly, spinning her new vine wand between her fingers, staring off into space as the wheels turn in her head.

Severus tilts his head, watching her curiously. He's stolen the leather tie back and has it in his hair, keeping the lank strands from his face while brewing earlier in the day. After a few minutes pass and she still hasn't said something, he reaches out and gently touches his fingertips to her earlobe, peeking out from between her curls.

She jumps a little, as the gentle shock tingles pleasantly from her ear through her face and down her throat. Blinking the sensation away, she looks up to Severus, smiling almost involuntarily at the scruffy scowl on his face before biting at her lower lip. "Sorry. I was just wondering if maybe we should test to see if they have changed. Or not. But then I was thinking through all of the possible outcomes  _that_  might incur."

He lets out a soft sigh, moving his hand to lightly tug her lip from her teeth. "Hermione…"

With a growl, she nips at his finger before grasping her wand, screwing her eyes shut, and pointing toward the far, book covered wall. " _Expecto patronum_!"

From behind her squinched eyes, Hermione sees the flash of brilliant gold light, she hears Severus's soft gasp, and then his hand on her's - " _Expecto patronum_!", more golden light - and his cry of amazement. "Hermione!"

Her eyes fly open and she gasps in shock, staring wide eyed at the two golden barn owls perched on the back of the couch. "Sweet Merlin. Severus…"

"I know." Severus's low voice is gravelly, and when she turns away from the pair - obviously a mated pair, a male and a female - she finds him already looking at her, dark eyes intense.

She turns her hand to tangle her fingers with his, before looking over at the two birds again. "Well. They're going to be rather obvious, aren't they?"

There's a sputtering sound from above her, before he suddenly begins laughing, harder and louder than she has ever heard him laugh before, and she can't help but join him, leaning into one another for support.

It takes almost an hour for the owls to fade on their own, eventually disappearing with a last golden shimmer.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Second to last chapter, y'all. :) So glad you've been with me! Enjoy!

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

_ one year later _

Hermione yawns hugely as she stretches out under the sheets, groaning loudly as a knot in her back suddenly unkinks.

“What is wrong with you, woman? Every single morning.”

Her eyes pop open and she looks over at Severus with a sleepy grin. “Good morning to you, too, love.”

“I’ve been up for two hours and finished all of my grading while you’ve been a slug a bed, Miss Granger. It’s no longer morning.” He peers down at her with one brow arched. He’s kept the beard since she unexpectedly likes it so much, allowing it to fill in his lower face with a thick layer of black and no few silver strands. In exchange, he had cut his hair - short in the back and allowing her easy access to scratch his neck.

She huffs and reaches out to him, grin widening when he automatically reaches back for her and their fingers tangle before he even realizes what happened. “It’s not even nine o’clock! And I was up late finishing  _ my _ work, for your information, Mr. Snape. I completed my final essay for Flitwick, and finished my first draft for Vector.”

After completing her NEWTS in record time, - as soon as the school was reopened in September, she began working, finishing in December with a final number of seven - she immediately took on apprenticeships in both Charms and Arithmancy, with an eye towards specializing in warding. Severus had returned to the staff as the Potions Master; DADA just contained too many bad memories.

They celebrated by asking Minerva to witness their bonding in the coming spring, as soon as the school year was over.

As soul mates, there isn’t an official bonding ceremony as such; even the ministry recognizes that a soul bonded couple are above  _ routine _ ceremonies. But they -  _ Hermione _ \- had mentioned wanting a ceremony, so a ceremony they were having. 

All of their friends are invited: Potter and the new Mrs. Potter, the entire Weasley clan, select members of the Order, Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, Minerva, most of the Hogwarts staff.

The passing year had also cleared many misunderstandings between the staff, though some were still harder to let go than others. And of course, they were all shocked at first by Severus and Hermione’s comfort with and around each other.

But now, the school year is finished, Hermione’s apprenticeships are moving into journeyman training after a summer break of one month, and they are about to be bonded on the castle grounds, beneath a large flowering tree near the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

By the time she finally drags herself from bed, they prepare themselves, and walk out to the pasture, clothed in soft but plain cotton robes in black and white, it’s late morning. But then they stop in shock at the giant canopy that has already been erected, the large tables and piles of food and drinks, and a collection of their friends.

They are greeted by the gathering, hugs and kisses and tears passing between many of them in a blur.

Hermione reaches out blindly then gasps in relief when Severus takes her hand, their fingers curling together as warmth spreads through their limbs. She tilts her head back and sighs as she finds herself tucked under his arm. They make their way to the edge of the tent, over to where Minerva is settled with a glass of wine and a plate of cheese and grapes.

“Really, Minerva? It’s not even noon.” Severus sneers as Hermione smiles sweetly, leaning over to press her lips to Minerva’s cheek.

The headmistress returns Hermione’s greeting, before speaking to her warmly. “Are you quite sure you want to follow through with this, dear? I could find you a delightful young man in a heartbeat. One with an appreciation of good wine.”

Hermione laughs and squeezes Minerva’s hand with a wink, as Severus rolls his eyes. “Because everyone wants a drunkard as a husband. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

Hermione turns her eyes up to him, her lower lip sticking out slightly. “Thank you for humoring me, love.”

“If it makes you happy, that’s what matters.” He says this through slightly gritted teeth, which only makes her start laughing. He almost smiles at that, before tugging her back beside him as he looks to Minerva. “Are you ready, Headmistress?”

Minerva sighs and takes one last swallow of her wine before setting the glass aside and standing with Severus’s assistance when he reaches out with one hand to grasp her elbow and steady her until she has her cane in hand. “Thank you, my dear. Let’s finish this, so we can enjoy the lovely party Molly Weasley put together for you two.”

Severus groans softly, ignoring Hermione’s delighted laugh in response, as they follow Minerva out into the sun and to the tree where small white flowers thickly decorate the branches.

The others all quiet and turn to watch, many moving closer, though still keeping a small distance between them and the three under the tree. Harry and Ginny, Ron, Fred and George, Draco and Astoria all stand within hearing of the brief ceremony.

They withdraw their wands, passing them between each other, so that Hermione holds Severus’s acacia wand, and he holds her vinewood. They motion their wands over one another, before passing both of them to Minerva, who holds all three wands together in one hand as she passes them around their clasped hands. She hands each wand back to their owners, before letting out a startled yelp as gold ribbons erupt from the tips of the wands, twisting together and around their clasped hands, before sinking into their skin with a flash of light.

Hermione turns her bright, tea colored eyes to Severus, a giant smile stretching across her face as she throws her arms around his neck, laughing as he grabs her, arms around her waist and hauling her up against him, his face buried in her neck. She presses her mouth to his bare ear, whispering. “I love you.”

His arms tighten around her before he raises his head and kisses her, in front of everyone, without any second thought.

.oOo.

Later that night, Severus sits on the side of the bed, staring off at the firelight from the sitting room. Hermione is in the bathroom, having just stepped out of the shower. They had explored one another, together… but only to a point. She is still, by technicality, a virgin, and he, relatively inexperienced.

They had come close, once, to allowing their desires to overwhelm their sense, but an untimely Floo call from the (at the time) soon-to-be-Mrs. Potter had cooled their ardor quickly enough as she railed about her mother’s interference through the green flames to a sympathetic if frustrated Hermione and an uninterested, annoyed Severus.

But she had disappeared into the bathroom with a smile and a length of dark cloth in her hand about thirty minutes earlier, so she had obviously planned  _ something _ .

There is a creak and the bathroom door opens, and as though summoned by his thoughts, Hermione steps through, and his hands droop to hang limply between his knees.

She is wearing a black lace nightgown, but beyond that bit of lace, he realized a moment too late, he could see every last curve, freckle, and peak. It was completely see through, and he couldn’t look away, even as she walks closer until she’s close enough for him to touch, and he does. His long pale fingers trail along her bare silky legs, skimming along until he reaches the hem of her nightgown.

Hermione reaches up, running her fingers through his hair and sighing as the warmth of their contact spreads through their limbs. Severus tilts his head back as she tugs at the longer tops of his hair, arching a brow as he rumbles, “Where’d this come from?”

Flush creeping down her chest, and completely visible beneath the lace, she clears her throat as his fingers creep higher, stroking the curve of her arse. “I got it in Diagon Alley, when Ginny and I went together a few weeks ago.”

“Ahh. That makes sense.” He chuckles softly as he leans in to press his lips to her breast bone, before hissing when she scrapes her nails through his hair. “Easy with the claws, kitten.”

She laughs softly, stroking his hair and smoothing it down. “Sorry, love.” She leans in and presses her lips to his forehead. He tilts his head back and presses his mouth to hers, his hand grasping her bottom and pulling her into his lap. He chuckles into her mouth as she growls and kisses him again, taking control of it for a heartbeat before he flips her onto her back and hovers over her with a smirk.

Severus leans down, pressing his mouth to her shoulder, kissing slowly down to her stomach, until he’s suddenly on his feet. She gasps for breath as she watches his hands swiftly unbutton and shed his shirt, followed by his trousers. He pauses, reaching down to curl his fingers tenderly around her ankle. “Alright?”

She nods, raising her foot to press it against his hip. “Great.”

He smirks, fingers stroking along her legs as he crawls back onto the bed, inserting himself between her legs and hooking them over his hips.

Her arms wind around his neck, pulling him down closer to him as she sighs. When his mouth presses to her throat, she shudders at the flare of sensation through her entire body. She drags her fingers long his back, then up into his hair, gasping when he licks a stripe across her collarbone.

Severus grunts softly as her legs squeeze around his hips, before sucking at the same spot. She shudders again, digging her heel into the back of his thigh as she bucks her hips against him. “Oh!”

He sits up a little to push the lace from her chest, tugging the straps down her arms and leaving the material bunched at her waist as his dark eyes glitter down at her. He swallows, dragging his hand down his face as he lets out a slow breath. “You may be the death of me, love.”

She blushes, reaching up to stroke his cheek, scratching her nails lightly through his beard. “Never.”

He dips down, kissing her again, deeply and passionately, as he methodically strips away the remaining clothing from both of their bodies. He settles back between her legs, one hand slipping between them to stroke along her weeping slit. His touch makes her hips jerk hard, a soft cry falling from her lips as she arches back.

Hermione shudders again as his fingers delve deeper, a whine escaping her, until she reaches between them and grasps his erection. He grunts, hard and low, as he buckles to his elbows. “Fuck, Hermione.”

She actually  _ giggles _ , and he groans again, sinking harder against her. Tilting his head down, he drags his tongue along the upper curve of her breast until he reaches her nipple. When she actually convulses, he peers up at her quickly, waiting for her nod before engulfing the pert brown tip in his mouth.

Her body arches from the bed, the golden glow flooding the room as she moans. “Sev, oh God!” When he releases her nipple with a pop, only to descend on the other, she moans louder, sinking back against the bed bonelessly as he strokes her sides, feasting on her breast.

His long fingers stroke along her hip and gently down between her legs, teasing her there, fingertips rolling across her swollen clitoris. She claws at his back, head thrown back against the bed as her legs try to close around his body.

Severus grunts as she clamps her thighs, free hand struggling to pin her leg down for a moment as he slips two fingers into her, gently working back and forth until she’s relaxed and is gasping his name over and over. He grits his teeth as he presses his cock against her slit, slowly rocking back and forth slowly. The fiery burst along their nerves has their fingers clutching at the other, grasping for a strong hold.

Hermione pants softly, hands tugging at his shoulders as she looks up into his eyes with a whine. “Please, Severus…!”

“Ready?” He grits his teeth, staring down into her eyes until she nods vigorously, her hips rocking back against him.

“Yes!” She gasps out, her mouth falling open as he sinks into her, slowly and steadily, from tip to base, until his hips are locked against hers. Bracing himself above her, his arms and thighs tremble with the self-control of keeping himself still, only a subtle, almost unconscious rocking of his hips against hers shifting their bodies.

When she pulls at his shoulders, tugging him closer down against her until their chests are pressed into each other, and she moans into his ear, “Harder, please!” - he can’t help but to obey.

  
Drawing his hips back, pausing for only a moment until she whines again, then forcefully pushing his cock back into her, over and over again, until she’s crying out and clinging to his arms.

He stutters to a stop when she suddenly tenses her walls all around him, gasping as she lets out a breathless laugh, apologizing. “I just wondered!” He can’t help but laugh as well, leaning down and kissing her, wrapping his arms under her. Suddenly rolling on the bed until she’s perched on top of him, his erection unabated inside of her by the momentarily interlude.

Hermione gulps, staring down at him in the dim light with eyes wide in her flushed face, wild curls hanging around her shoulders.

Severus lets out a breath, reaching up and stroking her cheek with two fingers. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” She smiles down at his responding scowl, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm before turning her gaze down to their joined bodies. “I don’t…”

“Start slow; do whatever feels good to you.” There’s a flash of teeth from behind his dark beard as he actually grins, albeit quick and razor sharp. “The view’s magnificent and you won’t hurt me.”

Hermione laughs, thumping his chest before she clenches her inner muscles again, eliciting a sharp grunt from beneath her. “Hush, and let me.” She plants her hands on his chest, raising her hips just a bit and moving down again. The change in sensation draws gasps and moans from them both. 

Severus strokes her trembling thighs, cupping her bottom, and occasionally helping her keep rhythm as she tires for a few moments. When one hand slips between their moving bodies to caress her clit, she shouts and almost collapses on top of him. “Keep moving, love, you can do it.”

  
Hips rolling against his again, his fingers find her clit and tenderly finger her into her first orgasm of the night, the golden glow illuminating the entire room. He can feel the pull in his balls to come, but grits his teeth against it. After a few times together, they had found that if he’s far enough away from the edge that the bond can’t overwhelm him into orgasm, no matter how many times Hermione herself came - and he had made it his mission one day.

Tenderly rolling her over onto her back, Severus strokes his fingers along her side, smiling as she swats at his hand. “Stop tickling!” He merely chuckles, before settling on top of her again, reaching down to hold his cock in place as he abruptly sheathes himself inside of her.

Gasping and crying out, Hermione twines her arms around his neck tightly, dragging him down against her as he continues to thrust, steadily building the pressure between them as the glow intensifies.

Snapping his hips hard, twice, he grunts as she cries out. He continues to thrust, one hand slipping between them to cup her breast, hard nipple pinched lightly between his fingers, just as he can feel her small hand between their joined bodies. As she curls her fingers around his thrusting cock, also grinding her palm into her throbbing clit, she arches hard against him, sobbing his name as she comes again, powerfully, and dragging him down the precipice with her.

He roars, hands clutching her body to his as he comes deep inside her womb, until he finally subsides, sinking to the bed with her. Golden light fills the room, seeping through every crack and grain and weave, before fading, sinking away.

They lay together, limbs tangled and breathing hard. Fingers idly stroke damp skin, as Severus presses his forehead to Hermione’s, eyes gazing back into the other’s. She smiles, freckles wrinkling, as she bumps her nose against his larger one.

Once, as a child, she had sat waiting in her bedroom room for her first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to arrive. Little did she know the love, the heartbreaks, and the trials, and the magic that she would find there.

 

And now, Severus Snape no longer seemed so sad, and Hermione is going to keep it that way.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And here is the last chapter! Thank you so much to everyone for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. :)

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

_epilogue - two years later_

The swell of her belly is an encumbrance as she pushes herself up from the chair with a huff. Shuffling through the living room and into the kitchen, Hermione reaches up, pulling down the tin of good tea before adding water to the kettle and setting it to boil. She hums as she moves, preparing for tea.

"I told you I was going to make the tea, Hermione."

She peers over her shoulder at him with a smile. Severus has no hope of sneaking up on her anymore, not after the hours of time she spends with the wards in virtually every building they spend any time in, and he is still a bit miffed about it, but makes up for it to himself whenever Harry or Ron are around by continuously scaring the literal life from them. It's especially easy in their new house on the far outskirts of Hogsmeade; the boys haven't learned all of the corners yet, despite their often dinners over at the house.

"I know, love. And you were still busy and I was feeling peckish. Your son is awfully demanding, especially when it's food time."

As usual, ever since finding out that she was pregnant, Severus's expression struggles between pride and fear, but it's taking less and less time for the pride to win out as the months pass, and within only a few heartbeats, he's striding across the room to curl his hands across her wide belly.

He presses a kiss to her neck, nuzzling the warm skin bared by the leather tie pulling her long curls over to the opposite side, as he rubs her stomach. The warmth of their touch spreads through their limbs and Hermione sighs happily as the baby in her womb moves, reacting to his father's presence.

They stand together for a long moment before reluctantly pulling apart in order to finish brewing the tea. Severus pulls down a few nibbles, some fruit and cheese, leftover chicken from dinner the night before, and some crackers. Dropping the plate onto a platter and waving his wife away as he gathers the cups and teapot, he scoops up the entire collection and heads back into the living room.

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm going to break, Severus." Hermione grumbles as she settles back down onto the couch, wincing as her hip aches until she gets the pillow tucked under her at just the right angle. She studiously ignores Severus's smirk as he settles onto the end of the couch by her feet, before she imperiously holds a hand out to him, mimicking his arched eyebrow. "My tea?"

He snorts, snapping his fingers so that the pot levitates and, with an impressive show of control, pours into the teacups. He adds the sugar to his and milk to them both by hand, stirring and passing hers before loading a small plate with some of everything and passing it to her as well.

Hermione takes it with ill grace, pouting as she pops a grape into her mouth. "I should invite Molly over; she would be less of a mother hen than you, I think."

With a dismissive sneer, his long fingers curl around her foot, bare despite the chill from the coming autumn across the wood floors. As soon as their skin touches, the familiar warmth spreads through their bodies and Hermione sighs as she sinks bonelessly into the pillows, her eyes drifting closed. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"I know you're not feeling your best. The little bugger is awfully hard on you already, and two months still to go." Severus chuckles as she sticks her tongue out at him without even opening her eyes, and he squeezes her foot before massaging it carefully.

She moans softly as he continues to massage her foot, switching to the other after a few minutes, though she laughs softly. "I'd say he takes after his father-" she groans when he hits a particularly sensitive spot, "-but you're so lovely, we know it's not true."

Severus smirks down at her toes before lightly tickling her foot. "So you say. Eat, and drink your tea. The midwife said you still need to gain a bit more weight."

Rolling her eyes, she props her plate on her stomach, shoving an entire cracker and slice of cheese into her mouth in one bite, staring at him the entire time, fighting a grin. He ignores her antics, tucking her feet snugly into his lap as he grabs his tea cup, settling back on the couch.

.oOo.

_eleven (more) years later_

"Make sure you behave yourself, Jacob." Hermione huffs, smoothing her son's black waves from his eyes, even as he attempts to escape from her clutches.

" _Mum_! I'm fine! I'll be good. Da and Auntie Minnie are both there, so it's not like I'll be able to get away with much  _anyway_." Jacob shrugs.

Severus steps up behind Jacob, laying a pale hand on his shoulder with a smirk. The little girl of about two, all long arms and legs and huge black curls, perched on his hip mimics it eerily well, despite only having the two front teeth. "You'll be just fine. And it's not as though your mum can't come visit the castle whenever she likes, you know."

Jacob groans loudly before spotting Teddy and his family in the crowd. Shooting off to the Potters, he and Teddy bunch together for only a moment before swooping in to give Ginny, then Hermione, hugs and kisses, a shouted jumble of "love yous" and "byes" before disappearing into the depths of the train.

Severus looks mildly appalled as Harry, a six year old James Sirius trotting along beside him, and Ginny, Albus Severus strapped to her back, stroll up, grinning. "Welcome to eleven. Boys are the  _best_. Wait another year or two until the hormones  _really_  kick in! I've found  _so many_  petrified socks in Teddy's room…"

"Ginny! Welcome back! How was Europe?" Hermione bursts in, laughing as her face reddens in embarrassment.

Cassandra buries her face into Snape's neck, which makes him sigh softly and heft her a bit higher onto his hip, before reaching out to shake Harry's hand. "Potter."

"Snape." Returning the shake, Harry grins at Severus before glancing down to James, the grin widening to Marauder proportions. "James, you remember  _Professor_  Snape?"

James tilts his head up, staring at the tall man all clad in black, with a neatly trimmed black and silver beard, and a small child clinging to his side like a barnacle, before grinning hugely and showing off all seven missing teeth. "I do! Hi, Prof'sor Snape! Where's Aunt Miney?" He spins around before spotting his favorite, standing chatting with his second favorite (with the  _least_  favorite clinging to her back like the evil little monkey he is) before breaking away from his father and dashing across the massive distance of at least five feet. Once clinging to his mother's hand, he looks back at his father and laughs victoriously.

Harry sighs in exhaustion, while Severus actually  _laughs_. "Well. You certainly have your work cut out for you, don't you, Potter?"

"I do, but you know whose student he'll be in five more years?" Harry grins through his own scruffy beard, though  _his_  remains all brown.

Severus shrugs, smirking. "Perhaps. Maybe I'll have retired by then. I am, after all, an  _old bat_ , I believe was what he called me last time. At his birthday party." He sneers the last, rolling his eyes.

Harry wheezes, almost laughing out loud before controlling himself. "Well. You know. I  _do_  have my work cut out for me." It's a heartbeat longer before he finally loses it and he starts laughing, while Severus just sighs and walks over to his wife, leaving Harry behind to lean up against a brick wall and get control of himself.

"I know; my husband  _is_  a dunderhead." Ginny grins and shrugs, while Albus laughs and waves happily at his godfather.

Severus arches a disdainful eyebrow at Ginny, all while reaching out to Albus and magically pulling a knut from his ear before passing it to the preschooler who screams in delight, right in his mummy's ears.

"Merlin's pants, son, please stop trying to deafen mummy!" Ginny reaches up and puts her hand over Albus's mouth, glaring at an unrepentant Severus who has moved to stand beside Hermione, passing the clingy urchin off to his wife with a kiss to the top of her head.

"The train's moving," Harry strides up, having finally gotten control of himself, and motioning to the train, which indeed is rolling steadily out of the station. "Teddy's usually at the end somewhere."

And sure enough, at the very end of the train, Teddy's green head and Jacob's black one pop out briefly as their arms wave, everyone on the platform waving back, even Cassandra, who has finally picked her head up from her mother's shoulder. Hermione sniffles, wiping her face with a handkerchief as her son rides off to his first year of school, as Severus wraps an arm around his girls.

.oOo.

_(another) twenty years later_

Hermione smiles, staring out over the glittering lake at Malfoy Manor. Cassandra and Leo Malfoy - both Ravenclaws of the same year at school - had just left for their honeymoon in Greece, and Severus was still chatting with Draco at the bar. So, grabbing one last glass of champagne, Hermione slinks down to one of the cushioned benches on the veranda and stretches out there.

Life had been amazing. There were all of the ups and downs, fights and makeups, life and death. Cassandra and Leo had just married, tying the Snape and Malfoy families even closer together. Albus and Scorpius were partners, which had really shocked no one, and which Draco still liked to whine about, just to annoy his oldest son.

The other children were off doing their own things, jobs across the board from arithmancy (Lily Luna was one of the youngest to obtain her mastery) to magizoology (the Lovegood-Scamander twins had that down to a literal science).

Jacob, her blessed son, had gone into the aurory, eyes set on his hero and godfather, Harry Potter. Luckily for him, between his parents and said godfather, he walked into his first day of training well versed in all manner of offensive and defensive spells, and had only moved up in the rankings from there, soundly trouncing any who tried to claim "special treatment" in a wizard's duel.

Cassandra had inherited Hermione's talents with charms and then some, and was studying under Flitwick for her mastery, likely his last apprentice due to his well advanced age.

Hermione herself had spent years as one of the world authorities on warding, before retiring along with her husband to write a book on soul mates. She is occasionally still called upon for a special consult, but is hardly ever active anymore.

WIth a sigh, Hermione sits the empty glass down on the marble beneath her, whilst reaching out with her other hand to capture Severus's as he steps around the bench to settle beside her. Anyone watching might have thought they'd practiced the move, as smoothly as they managed it without any conversation.

She peers up at him with a smile, tilting her head as she looks him over. He's aged well, staying active - once Minnie retired, he took over again as Headmaster, though only for a few years while they settled affairs and hired a more permanent replacement. Once the board had found the replacement, Severus retired from teaching, for good, and settled in as an independent potion maker.

The object of her thoughts huffs a bit, the heavily silvered beard twitching. "Quit eyeing me like that, woman. You're making me wonder if you're finally going to turn me into potions ingredients, as you've been threatening for years."

She laughs, curling her silk-clad arm through his black wool as she lays her head against his shoulder. "Hush, you tyrant. Before you so rudely interrupted me, I was just contemplating how very happy I am, and how most of it is to do with you." Tilting her head back, she smirks, catching the soft look he's directing her way before he snorts.

"Of course you were. Weddings do tend to make you...  _mushy_." Severus gathers her closer, tucking her under his arm close against his side with well practiced ease. "I can't imagine what you'll be like if  _Jacob_  ever gets married!"

Hermione thumps his thigh with her fist, ignoring his hiss of pain. "Ah, hush! Jacob is  _not_ my favorite, he is just my first." She snuggles back against him with a soft sigh. "But still. I am happy, and thank you for making my life so happy."

Severus tilts his head down, pressing his mouth to the top of her head before murmuring into her still vibrant silvered curls. "Thank you for exactly the same, my love. Thank you."

_~ fin_


End file.
